Does anyone remember this holiday song from around the 50's?

There was a song about a homeless girl that used to make things with her hands (I don't remember what she made), but was then found dead from the cold. I think it was from around the 50's.

It may not sound like a holiday song, but it was a beautiful melody and I haven't heard it in a long, long time. Does anyone remember it??? I just happened to think about it the other day and was wondering what the title is so I could look it up.

It sounds like the Little Match Girl story but I can't find that on the net. But it would be worthwhile pursuing that line for a while.

See if this helps.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Little_Match_Girl

I have just heard a song on BBC radio2 the Desmond Carrington show. The song is called Artificial Flowers about a young girl who makes artificial flowers and freezes to death. It is from a Broadway show called Tenderloin in 1960. This may well be the song sung by Ron Hussman not sure of the spelling. However if you log onto the BBC you can play it again. I think this may well be what you are looking for

I now know that Bobby Darin recorded this song: and you can get it on his hits albums.

Alone in the world was poor little Anne
As sweet a young child as you'd find.
Her parents had gone to their final reward
Leavin' their baby behind.

Did you hear this poor little child was only nine years of age
When mother and Dad went away;
Still she brav-el-y worked
At the one thing she knew
To earn her few pennies a day.

She made artificial flowers, artificial flowers,
Flowers for ladies of fashion to wear;
She made artificial flowers, you know those artificial flowers,
Fashions from Annie's despair.

With paper and shears, with some wire and wax
She made up each tulip and mum.
As snowflakes drifted into her tenement room
Her baby little fingers grew numb.

From makin' artificial flowers, artificial flowers
Flowers for ladies of high fashion to wear.
She made artificial flowers, artificial flowers
Made from Annie's despair.

They found little Annie all covered with ice
Still clutchin' her poor frozen shears
Amidst all the blossoms she had fashioned by hand
And watered with all her young tears.

There must be a heaven where little Annie can play
In heavenly gardens and bowers.
And instea-a-ad of a halo she'll wear 'round her head
A garland of genuine flowers.

No more artificial flowers;
Throw away those artificial flowers,
Flowers for ladies of society to wear.
Throw away those artificial flowers,
Those dumb-dumb flowers,
Fashioned from Annie's,
Fashioned from A-a-a-annie's
Des-pa-a-a-air.