Faith & Spirit Quote by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Montgomery’s line lands with the plainspoken heft of someone who has watched idealism get dented by weather, grief, and bills. It’s not a pep talk; it’s a survival protocol dressed up as folk wisdom. The rhythm moves in three beats - hope, prepare, accept - and that sequencing matters. Hope comes first because without it you don’t endure; preparation follows because hope alone is a luxury; acceptance arrives last, not as surrender but as the price of living in a world that refuses to negotiate.

The God language does double duty. On the surface it reflects the Protestant-inflected culture Montgomery wrote out of, where providence was part of daily vocabulary. Underneath, it’s a rhetorical release valve: a way to name randomness without admitting chaos. “Take whatever God sends” isn’t passivity so much as emotional triage, a method for staying upright when circumstances are non-negotiable.

As an educator’s sensibility, it’s also quietly pedagogical: the sentence models a stance you can teach, a disciplined temperament rather than a single decision. It anticipates modern coping frameworks - resilience, contingency planning, radical acceptance - while refusing their sleek, therapeutic branding. Montgomery’s intent feels less like moralizing and more like arming the reader with a posture suited to precarious lives: keep your tenderness (hope), keep your tools (prepare), keep your dignity (take). The subtext is clear-eyed: the worst isn’t hypothetical, and grace is what you do after it arrives.