The whole world is a series of miracles, but we're so used to them we call them ordinary things. - Hans Christian Andersen

But shouldn't all of us on earth give the best we have to others and offer whatever is in our power?

Her tender feet felt as if cut with sharp knives, but she cared not for it; a sharper pang had pierced through her heart.

She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance. "Grandmother," cried the little one, "O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas-tree." And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.