Lucy Maud Montgomery was a Canadian author, best known for a series of novels beginning with Anne of Green Gables, published in 1908.
Montgomery was born at Clifton, Prince Edward Island, Nov. 30, 1874. She came to live at Leaskdale, north of Uxbridge Ontario, after her wedding with Rev. Ewen Macdonald on July 11, 1911. She had three children and wrote close to a dozen books while she was living in the Leaskdale Manse before the family moved to Norval, Ontario in 1926. She died in Toronto April 24, 1942 and was buried at Cavendish, Prince Edward Island.
Jessamine unfolds with Montgomery’s characteristic gentleness, but beneath its softness lies a quietly radical assertion: that emotional intelligence is not a lesser form of strength. Reading this story, I felt Montgomery pushing back against a world that values hardness over attentiveness.
Jessamine herself is defined not by action but by perception. She notices moods, absences, and subtle shifts in tone. In another writer’s hands, this might read as passivity. Montgomery refuses that framing. Jessamine’s sensitivity is labour—unpaid, unacknowledged, and essential.
What struck me was how Montgomery treats endurance not as resignation, but as active moral choice. Jessamine’s restraint is not fear; it is care. She absorbs emotional weight so others do not have to carry it. Reading this, I felt Montgomery honouring forms of heroism that leave no visible trace.
The story’s emotional climax is understated, almost evasive. There is no grand confession, no decisive rupture. Instead, change occurs incrementally, through recognition. Someone finally sees Jessamine. And that seeing, Montgomery suggests, is transformative.
What lingered for me was the story’s insistence that gentleness is not weakness—it is vulnerability sustained over time. Montgomery does not romanticise suffering, but she acknowledges how often the kindest people are asked to endure the most.
Jessamine stayed with me because it articulates a truth many stories ignore: that emotional labour shapes lives as surely as ambition does, even if history never records it.
5 stars. I love this little story, and I wish it were published on its own. It’s just super sweet and delightful and adorable and refreshing and heartwarming in every way. <33