The sun’s Eve in real cold and snowy gutter discharge. The late afternoon sun, the darkness and cold, a baby in the ceiling, barefoot with the package matches still wandering along the street despite the falling snowflakes filled the hair colored yellow horizontal as deleted. Which is too large shoes of his mother, a book was the song code wheel car engine when you surf faster across town, the other is a boy get away.

The windows were bright lights and smells fragrant famous goose back radiating. Little is know about today’s Eve but did not dare go home, announced it would review certain units not sold from day one cent, the Left at home any more than anything, it just has a dilapidated roof despite the wind whiz . Roll in the corner between two houses but still frozen limbs as cold, where you suddenly think that match up will enable better, at least can heat the finger. First Que turned up, they hand over the flame warm light as the holiday tree candles small, they believe you are sitting in front of the fireplace iron to the tower base and decorated with copper. Fire vụt off, fireplace disappeared, only remains in the hands of children is half matches glowing.

She turned matches Monday, walls in front suddenly become transparent, baby seen in the table is a government white towel as snow geese return to the stuffed apples and dried plums are suspected ngut evaporation. And yet strange! the geese suddenly jumped down from the disk, creeks transparency toward children with jack plates and knives in the chest. Suddenly matches minute off, nothing outside the thick walls dark, wet and cold front.

Baby turned one more matches, and found himself sitting under the Christmas tree decorated wire Noel candles and colorful paintings. With hands on the tree, off lim matches, you see flame soaring higher, higher sales look like the why. Then a star fell, “Who is the exit.” Thinks the baby because she remembered words, the only person you love your life on this territory.

She turned matches Wednesday, covering the light suddenly, the bright yellow, she stood there, smiling gentle climate and affection. “She ơi!” Step up crying, “She’s traveling with grandchildren nhé!” I knew she would leave the grandchildren when matches burning out, she will disappear like the other warm fireplace, like geese back and comment trees Information brilliant. They rush to the packet matches on fire, light the holiday than goldfish positive and she is not beautiful like aging, to the largest ever high. Hug her child in my arms and both fly in the light and joy, forever away from the ground, to the Lord, to arrive not hungry and suffering.

Dawn the next morning, people saw her sitting considerable trade titles to the wall, cheeks blush pink, smiles on each bloom. She died gate, hands still firmly grasp the matches, a handful of the runs. “It tried to heat yourself.” People talk without knowing what they’ve seen beautiful as well as the realms of heaven, but to her children.