mình bổ sung nek....tha hồ tham khảo nha
The girl in the match was very poor. Mother died, she died, living in a dark room, I always have to listen to the curse of the father. On New Year's Eve, the weather was cold, the snow was white, I was alone selling matches in the street, I was sitting in a corner, I had a match to warm. She sat and whipped up the matchsticks and before her eyes turned to the fireplace, the table with a goose turned, the Christmas tree and she saw the sisters, the two grandchildren soared up mourning. Every time the match is off, in fact it appears in front of him, in turn he thought his father would scold for not selling the match, the streets were deserted with cold snow, wicked giraffe and the guests crossed the street hurry Oh, sorry for the poor girl. The next morning, she died on New Year's Eve.