Why do I remember?
January 16th, 2026
Get footsteps of the Furies’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Why was I allowed to read Hans Christian Andersen as a child? I remember we had his collected tales in three volumes, richly illustrated and within easy reach of me. So I read them. And a few of his stories have stayed with me since then. And on a night like tonight, when the bitter cold takes away breath and layers don't help and shivers cannot stop, I remember the little matchstick girl. And I remember crying after reading this story. Not right away, because when I read it for the first time, I didn't want to accept the ending, and assumed there was some magic involved, and the girl was safely rescued and in a safe place. Of course, I misread the last few sentences for that purpose. And that had to be involuntarily, because I didn't know what I wanted to avoid, but avoid I did. I remember going back right away and re-reading this story again. This time in full and with an understanding of what happened. And I remember crying. I remember sobbing and being angry and violent. And I think I was no more than eleven or twelve years old then. That is the earliest memory I have of my reaction to a book. A story, a tale, a narration that affected me then and stayed with me until today. And it is easy to remember it on a night like tonight, when bitter cold awaits its victims as it has since forever.
