The Girl Who Met Her Match

 

     Pixabay

The little match girl looked wistfully at the beautifully decorated window of the departmental store, was bathed in light.

“Oh, it looks like Paradise!” she breathed, as she blew on her frozen hands.

The willowy mannequins stood in gowns that would have cost a fortune. The little girl stared, entranced, at a smaller mannequin clad in a dress covered with silver and red flowers, along with a tiara.

“Shoo, girl, move from that window! You will keep away our customers!” The loud voice startled her. It belonged to an overweight gentleman in the business of opening the store door to opulent clients.

The girl cast one last, longing glance at the dress. She melted away in the darkness. Her tattered bag held a few more match boxes which she had to sell to make enough money to buy a sparse meal.

“Matches for you, Sir, Ma’am?” she quavered as a couple sauntered by,

They gave her a disdainful glance. The lady moved away, gathering her gown around her.

The girl sighed. She sat down on the stone steps of the closest building. Still five boxes to go! How would she sell them all? She winced as she thought of the beating she would receive if even one box was left. The woman who had hired her would look at her and say harshly,

“You lazy creature! You will get nothing if you return even one box of matches.”

The girl shivered in her thin dress, trying to shield herself against a little wall that created a niche.

A handsome young man walked by, dressed in the latest fashion. His profile was perfect, as he held his hand out to the lady to help her over the uneven cobbled stones. The little girl held her breath. How beautiful the lady was! Even more exquisite than the mannequins in the store window! The two made such a wonderful pair.

Something jingled on the hard ground before her… an ornate pouch that obviously held something tinkly. It had fallen from the pocket of the young man who was oblivious to everything but his sweetheart’s face.

The little girl darted out from the little niche. Her palms closed around the pouch which smelt of lavender, nutmeg and anise. With trembling fingers, she opened it, her eyes widening. Inside nestled notes of money amidst shiny coins – more money than she had ever seen in her life. For a split second, she wavered… she would never get another chance like this.

The next moment, she shook her head and closed the pouch, resolution in her eyes. She ran after the couple, calling out.

“Sir, Ma’am, here’s something you dropped. Please wait!”

The couple turned to look at the petite girl in tatters, her unruly hair lifting in the breeze. She was barefoot, gooseflesh on her skinny arms.

She held out the pouch, trepidation in her large eyes.

“Where did you get this from?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“You dropped it, Sir, by mistake.”

As he took it from her, he glanced at his lady who was staring at the girl as if she could not believe her eyes. In a musical voice, she addressed her.

“Child, did you see what was in it?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Lots of money,” she answered.

The next question hung in the air. Why hadn’t the girl kept the pouch for herself? Here was a true and trusty heart, a mere child who had nothing, yet returned what did not belong to her.

The man took out a wad of notes and held it out to her.

“Thank you, my child, for returning my pouch. This is for you.”

She opened her tattered bag and took out the remaining matchboxes.

“Sir, please buy my match boxes and give me only the money for them,” she said softly.

The beautiful lady held her soft hand out and said, “Child, will you take us to your parents? We want to thank them as well.”

“I have no parents, Ma’am,” she replied. “I am alone in the world. I sell match boxes and make my living.”

The spirit of Christmas enveloped them as carol singers sang Yuletide tines at a distance. The breeze blew, lifting spirits as the little girl shivered. The man knelt beside her, his eyes smiling.

“What do you want most in the world, my girl?”

Her eyes went involuntarily to the beautiful silver dress in the store window. She quickly lowered her eyes, shaking her head.

“Just the money for my match boxes, Sir. If I do not sell them, my mistress will starve me.”

********

The little girl’s mistress was astonished to see a handsome couple at her door. Her eyes fell on the girl.

“Sorry, Sir, Ma’am, did she steal from you? I will give her the hiding of her life.” Her eyes crackled as they fell on the child.

“Yes, she has stolen something,” the lady said gravely. “She has stolen our hearts away.” She held out a thick wad of notes to the bewildered older lady.

“This is to ensure you never cross this little girl’s way again. If you do, you will be put behind bars.” The man’s voice thundered in the shabby room.

The woman began to bluster.                       

“Sir, I have looked after her all her life. How can you take her away?” Her mean eyes flickered as she beckoned to the girl, who cowered away.

“There is enough to cover all your expenses. If you come anywhere near her, you will regret it.”

********

The parlour was cosy, filled with Christmassy aromas – plum cake, biscuits and savoury delights. A Christmas tree filled with presents and twinkling lights stood in a corner.

The open window framed the perfect scene. A handsome young man filling wine glasses, his beautiful lady serving guests with wonderful delicacies. In their midst, a delicate little girl wearing a beautiful dress with silver and red flowers, tiara on her head.                                                         

 This post is a part of Jingle Bell Blog Hop hosted by Sukaina Majeed and Manali Desai