The Little Match-Filly

It was bitterly cold. The snow was falling; it was growing dark, and it was the evening of Hearth's Warming.

In the cold and darkness a poor little bareheaded and unclothed filly went along the street. When she left home she had a cape on; but little good had it done her. It was a very large old cape, which her mother, since dead, had worn; so large it was that the little filly had lost it as she was hurrying across the street to get out of the way of two cart-pulling stallions who galloped rapidly by.

She looked around and first it was nowhere to be found; then a wicked colt ran off with it. So the little filly went on, with bare body, while the snow fell thicker and faster. She carried a quantity of matches in a tray, and she held a bundle of them in her hoof.

High above her little head she had raised the bundle, time after time, and cried out that she had matches to sell! “Dear Sirs and Madams, it is a cold day, certainly you need matches to ignite a warming fire with, and the price is low!” she had yelled her weak puffs on all the streets and over the marketplace. But no heed did they pay to the filly and her matches.

One stallion; his bulging round stomach and the blonde mane, groomed to the finest, testifying great riches he possessed, even shoved the little seller out of the way as she offered the goods. Oh! what cruelty he had shown as he went his way and left her sitting on the snow; whimpering and rubbing her head that had thudded against a wall! Nobody had bought anything of her during that long day; nopony had given her a single copper bit.

Hungry, and shivering with the cold, the poor little thing crept along. The large flakes of snow covered her long fair mane, which fell in strains around her thin pale face; but little was she thinking of her appearance now. In a corner between two houses she at length sought what shelter she could from the storm; and, nestling down close to the wall, she pulled up, as well as she could with her tray full of matches, her poor little legs, which were red and blue with the cold. Trembling, she wrapped her front hooves around her legs in an attempt to warm them; while the tears ran down her reddened cheeks.

But she grew colder and colder; and she feared to go home, for, as she had sold no matches, and could carry home no bits to buy bread with, her father would beat her. Besides, it was cold at home; for she lived with her father up under the roof, where the wind and the snow came in, though the largest cracks had been stopped up with straw and rags.

Poor little thing! her hooves were already numb with cold. And she thought, oh, how much good one match would do her, if she might take one from the bundle, ignite it with her horn, and warm her hooves by the flame! She drew one out—“Whoosh!” how it sputtered! how it burned! It burned with a warm bright flame, like a candle; and she bent her hoof around it; it was a wonderful light!

It seemed to the little filly as if she were sitting before a large iron stove, in which the fire burned brightly, warming all around. She stretched forth her back hooves to warm them too; but the flame went out, the stove disappeared, and there she sat with a little piece of the burned-out match in her hoof.

Another match was lighted. It burned brightly, and the wall, where the light fell upon it, seemed to become like glass, so that she could see into the room beyond. And there was a table, on which was spread a snow-white cloth; and there were plates made of porcelain; and at one end of the table a double-baked pot pie was smoking. Oh! how delicious the fragrance!

But what was still more delightful, the pot pie grew tiny wings, and, flapping them steady, flew towards the little filly, when—the match went out, and nothing but the thick, cold wall and the drifting snow where to be seen.

She lighted another match; and, when it blazed forth, all at once she seemed to be sitting under the most splendid Hearth's Warming-tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one she had seen the Hearth's Warming before, through the window, in the rich merchant's house.

Thousands of little tapers were burning among the green branches, and beautiful pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched forth her front hooves toward them, when—the match went out. But the lights of the Hearth's Warming-tree rose higher and higher, until they seemed to be like stars: then one fell—down—down—leaving for a moment a long trail of light in the sky.

“Somepony is dying now,” said the little filly; for her old grandmother, who alone had loved her, but who was now no more, had told her that when a star falls a soul takes its flight into the afterlife.

She ignited another match with her horn, and in the light which it threw around her old grandmother seemed to stand before her; and oh! how bright! how mild was her countenance! and what an expression of love was there!

“Grandmother,” cried the little one, “oh, take me with you! I am afraid you will go away as soon as the match goes out, just like the warm stove, the delicious double-baked pot pie, and the Hearth's Warming-tree!” Then hastily she lighted the rest of the matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her as long as possible, and stuck them into the snow all around her.

And the matches burned so brightly that it was lighter than day. Never before had her grandmother appeared so beautiful and so tall. She took the little filly in her hooves; and, in brightness and joy, they flew high—high up into the sky, where they felt neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear,—for they became one with the stars!

But in the corner between the two houses, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the little match-filly, with rosy cheeks, and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall, half covered with snow, and frozen to death on that Hearth's Warming night. Of her matches, one bundle had been burned.

“She has been trying to warm herself,” ponies said. To her left, just far enough that the little match-filly had not noticed it during the night, a door opened. Out came the cruel blonde stallion and his eyes fell upon the meager cold body. “Why is she sitting behind your house?” the gathered ponies asked. “I do not know, never have I seen this filly before! She is just a poor foal from the streets,” the stallion answered with a straight face. But nopony knew what beautiful things she had seen, nor with what splendor she had entered, with her grandmother, into the joys of Hearth's Warming Morning.

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Comments ( 15 )

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Olden Bronie

Olden Bronie #1 · Dec 20th, 2016 · 4 · ·

So beautiful and so sad at the same moment. May we all remember those less fortunate than ourselves. And be not cruel to those that seek a bit of favor, for you know not what beauty and magic they possess.

Happy Hearths Warming!

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #2 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · ·

7807968

Finally you read one of my stories again! Thank you for reading it and for favouriting it too!
I'm proud of this one, because it is the first time I really ponified something and also because it's the first time I tried to imitate another author's style and I think it came out pretty well.
While it does not look like this on its surface, there went a lot of hard work into this story.

Happy Hearth's Warming to you as well!

Bronycommander

Bronycommander #3 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · 1 ·

Really sad

Reminds me of the two fics i'm working at the Moment where something familiar happens

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #4 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · ·

7808765

Thank you for leaving the fave! It's much appreciated, I'm glad you like it.

Bronycommander

Bronycommander #5 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · 1 ·

7809238 you're welcome, i love storys like this interested on what i work? Or what happens to noi in my fic? (Sorry, it's a old habit i can't get rid of)

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #6 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · ·

7809246

You can send me a PM if you like. Just don't want to spam the comments under my fics too much.

Bronycommander

Bronycommander #7 · Dec 21st, 2016 · · ·

7809583 of course

MixMassBasher

MixMassBasher #8 · Dec 24th, 2016 · 1 · ·

What's the difference from the original story?

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #9 · Dec 24th, 2016 · · ·

7816261

Thank you for reading "The Little Match-Filly" and for favouriting it, as well as the follow!
It was not easy to write and came with lots of work to do so, even though the fic doesn't look like that, so every reader here is appreciated.

What's the difference from the original story?

Not too much, because I wanted to capture the spirit of the original tale as best as possible. There are some bits and pieces sprinkled in that are from me, though, on top of the necessary changes to make it fit to Equestria. The most notable one being the slightly different end, that already got some build-up at the beginning of the story.
I went into detail about the writing process here:

http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/699979/my-first-hearths-warming-eve-fic-the-little-match-filly-a-pony-adaptation-of-hc-andersens-the-little-match-girl

TheOneAJ

TheOneAJ #10 · Dec 24th, 2016 · · ·

So it ends the same way?

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #11 · Dec 24th, 2016 · · ·

7816298

If you mean that she dies at the end, then yes. But it's still slightly different, because I added an own idea to give it something unique too.

BirdsBooksBrownies

BirdsBooksBrownies #12 · Dec 5th, 2021 · 1 · ·

2021 reader, I found several pieces of artwork of ponified LMG which inspired me to seek out fanfictions. Of the four that seem to exist on this website yours is wonderful and I honestly have a hard time conceptualizing how much work it was but nevertheless it shows handsomely. Your version and one other are currently holding a tie for my favorite version although I liked all four versions.

Fluttercheer

Fluttercheer #13 · Dec 5th, 2021 · 1 · ·

11073646

Thank you for your comment! I am happy that you like my adaptation so much! I looked at your bookshelves and where you added mine and the other three stories and it looks like mine came in on second place for you, after Mark Young's adaptation "The Little Match Mare", as his story is the only one in your holiday favourites bookshelf, but second place of four is very great and you give me a smile by liking my story that much!
Yes, I've indeed put a lot of work into this story, for how short it is. Before I began writing it, I read the original story by H. C. Andersen four times (one time in german, three times in english), I searched for the best english translation of it and compared quite many while doing so (which means I actually read it more than four times, as I had to read each translation before I could compare them, but I didn't count those reads, so there are dark figures here), I watched several animated adaptations of it on YouTube and I read all three ponyfied versions of "The Little Match-Filly" that existed here on FIMFiction.net at that time to avoid that I accidentally write something another pony author has already written before me. Only then I started to write the story. I talked in-depth about the writing process here:

My first Hearth's Warming Eve fic: "The Little Match-Filly", a pony adaptation of H.C. Andersen's "The Little Match-Girl"

It's five years ago now that I read the other three stories, so I don't remember them much at the moment, but I enjoyed each of them, as well, and the one with Applebloom as little match filly is my favourite. Nonetheless, I wanted to keep the original, tragic tone here and get the same feelings and message across, to make a true ponification of the story. This story is still one of my most work-intense and best ponyfics that I have written to date.
It makes me very happy that you enjoyed it so much, this year, my older Hearth's Warming Eve stories are independently found by readers, without me having to promote them, and that makes your reaction to my story all the better.

BirdsBooksBrownies