She was walking on the cold street, in the cold, and in the cold, in her bare feet, in the cold, and in the cold.
Who is she? The girl who sells matches is the girl who sells matches in the snow. Her only wish was her only extravagance, her frozen hands, and her trembling light kindled the delicate match, and the light of the fire gave her a little comfort. The agony of anguish gave her a momentary pleasure in the illusion, the stove, the goose, the Christmas tree, the grandmother, the warmth, the warmth, the joy and the love, she all got it. "She wants to warm herself" brings out the darkness of the old society, the little girl dies, smiles in the ice of the old century and goes to heaven, and leaves the world that makes her miserable. For her, getting rid of the pain was enough to make her happy. Why? Because she is a poor child.
Their death should wash away the confused eyes of modern people, the poor man's life is not life? Is the rich noble? True poverty is the poverty of the heart, the heart of the desert; True wealth is not money, but spirit! Who says that the poor man's life is worth nothing, and that life and death are only measured by wealth? This society, this favor, this world... See the matches in the burning love and hate, is like night and day, and that little girl in rags as poor people, and differences between the rich and the poor, life and death, at this moment, become so distinct!
There is no difference between the rich and the poor!