On the last night of the year, snow fell softly in the dark streets 🎵 of a big city. A small girl walked alone 🎵, her bare feet red and blue from the cold. She had lost her old slippers earlier that day.

The girl was supposed to be selling matches. Her father would be angry if she came home without money. But no one had bought any matches all day. People hurried by, eager to get home to their warm houses and delicious dinners.

She shivered as she peeked through bright windows. She saw families gathered around tables full of food. The smell of roast goose made her tummy 🎵 rumble. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

As she turned a corner, she heard a cat meow 🎵. It was curled up in a doorway, trying to stay warm. The girl stopped to pet it, and the cat rubbed against her hand. For a moment, she felt a little less alone.

But the wind grew 🎵 stronger, blowing icy snowflakes into her face. Her thin dress did little to keep out the cold. She huddled in a corner between two houses, trying to warm her hands.

In her pocket, she felt the bunch of matches she hadn’t sold. She thought about how their light might warm her, just for a little while. But she knew she shouldn’t 🎵. What would her father say?