Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last night of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been taken by an urchin. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, which were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything from her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single coin. She crept along trembling with cold and hunger–a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!
The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year’s Eve; yes, of that she thought.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring even a penny: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.
Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large cast iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but–the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.
She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when–the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant’s house.
Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when–the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.
“Someone is just dead!” said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God. She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.
“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety–they were with God.
But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall–frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. “She wanted to warm herself,” people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.
The first time I read the story of The Little Match Girl, it brought tears to my eyes. I remember thinking, “What a heartbreaking story! What kind of sadistic author would write about a poor little girl freezing to death on New Year’s Eve?” And I was shocked to discover that this short story was written by the Danish poet Hans Christian Anderson, who wrote all of those charming children’s fairy tales like The Ugly Duckling and The Little Mermaid.
But after I got over my initial reaction and read it again, I began to realize the ingenious beauty and profound theological truth in the story. Here we find an innocent little girl who has experienced the harsh realities of our sinful world—poverty, neglect, abuse, hunger, and cold, but God saw fit to take her out of this brutal existence and give her the all of the joys that she only imagined in this life. The last paragraph of the story is brilliant—even though the girl’s stiff body was found leaning against a stone cold wall, her heart was filled with joy as she joined God and her grandmother in the eternal splendors of heaven. And the smile on her mouth was there to prove it!
Hans Christian Anderson’s story of the little match girl teaches us the same lesson that we learn in Psalm 27—that true joy is found in the eternal presence of God ; not in our temporal circumstances!
The Presence of God (1-6)
Psalm 27 is comprised of two parts. In verses 1-6, King David expresses his joyful praise for God’s presence in his life. In verses 7-14, he utters a prayer for God’s continual presence in his life. As long as God was with him, he would have joy; despite his dreadful circumstances.
David begins the psalm with a dramatic declaration of his confidence in God. When he proclaims “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear. The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid,” he is affirming that even amid the ominous threat of war, he has no fear because he knows that God is the one who can dispel the darkness and deliver him and his people from their enemies. Since the Lord is the stronghold (place of safety) of his life, he has no reason to be afraid.
Verses 2 and 3 both refer to his enemies, but if the tenses are properly rendered, verse 2 refers to past victories while verse 3 speaks of the future triumphs. When evildoers have assailed David and sought to kill him (“devour his flesh”) in the past, God intervened on his behalf and caused his adversaries to stumble and fall. Certainly this was the case in David’s epic battle with the giant Goliath and when King Saul became jealous and attempted to murder him. Both Goliath and Saul literally stumbled, fell, and died. Because God protected him in the past, David had great confidence that God would be with him again. Regardless of his temporal circumstances (even the size or strength of the army that was advancing against him), as long as God’s presence was with him, he had nothing to fear.
David’s confidence in the presence of God leads to joy in verses 4-6, where he makes one of the clearest statements of purpose found anywhere in the Old Testament. The one thing that David had asked the Lord for more than anything else was that he “may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of his life” so that he might “gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire (or meditate) in his temple.” This verse is not to be understood in the literal sense that David actually wanted to physically live the tabernacle; rather, it is a metaphor for living permanently in God’s presence. This, of course, would have included regular visits to the tabernacle, the place of worship. David probably composed this psalm while he was praying in the tabernacle.
Divine protection is one of the great blessings of being in God’s presence. Like a bunker in a war zone or a shelter in a storm, David knew that the Lord would be his refuge when the day of trouble came. The Lord would lift him high upon a rock when the floods of life began to flow.
Verse 6 is the emotional climax of the psalm. Because God’s presence was an asylum for David in the midst of his encroaching enemies, he would worship the Lord by sacrificing, shouting, and singing. “And now my head shall be lifted up” is a metaphor of joy; the Lord’s presence has transformed his posture from one of dejection to delight. Like Hans Christian Anderson’s little match girl, David’s joy was not based on his temporal circumstances; but rather on the eternal presence of God in his life!
How about you? What is your joy based on—your current circumstances or God’s presence in your life? Many people today believe that their internal joy will increase if they could just improve their external circumstances. This is why so many people are deceived by the lie that “more and better will make me happier.” The devil spews these lies all the time—“If I had more money, more popularity, more property, more security, more things; then I would be more content. If I had a better home, a better job, a better body, a better spouse, a better government, then my life would be better.” All of these things produce a false sense of joy—“more” and “better” are elusive by their very nature—they are an endless pursuit.
Contrarily, I know many people who, while suffering with cancer, had more joy than others with perfect health. I know people who live in persistent poverty, and yet they have more joy and contentment than those who have plenty. The little match girl had absolutely nothing by way of material possessions or monetary security, but she had the presence of God in her life, and she died with joy! How can we have true joy in our lives now and forever? Live in God’s presence!
Advent and Christmas are all about God’s presence. They are about the eternal God of the universe, the creator of the stars of night, humbling himself so much that he would actually take on human flesh and live a mortal life—that he would dwell in a sinful world that rejected him—that he would die for the very people who despised him—that he would be raised to new life so that he might offer eternal life. Jesus is “Emmanuel”—God with us! He was born in Bethlehem so that he could die on Golgotha! He did it to save us from sin and death! He did it to give us everlasting joy!
Do you have true joy in your life? Are you living in the eternal presence of God or are you constantly shifting with your circumstance? True joy is only found in God’s presence!