I can remember the very first time I first heard about Helen Haines. Cathy McGowan, the former member for Indi, and I got to know each other really well, driving many kilometres for the ag committee's various inquiries over the years. When Cathy decided not to run again, she said to me that she had someone who was truly special to fill her shoes. She said she'd found a force, someone who would serve her community with authenticity and decency. How true that turned out to be. I spoke to Cathy last Monday night, not long after the attack, and she was truly devastated but was supporting Helen's team and the broader community of Indi and their supporters.

It really is difficult to find the words to describe the heartbreak of what has happened to Helen Haines. To hear that Helen has lost both of her legs following this devastating attack is just truly unimaginable. Our thoughts, all of our thoughts—my community back home, my colleagues, all of Australia—are with Helen, her family, her friends, her staff and everyone who loves her as they face what will be an incredibly difficult and life-changing time. Helen now faces a journey that will change so many aspects of her daily life. Things most of us take for granted will look very different, and she and those closest to her will need enormous strength and support in the months ahead. I want Helen to know that she is in our thoughts. We want to offer that support, and we want to offer that love and encouragement for her in the dark days and, hopefully, some light-filled moments ahead.

On Friday, while I was out doing some fruit and veg shopping, when I'd gotten home from Canberra, a local bloke approached me. He said, 'You take care of yourself; what a week.' I didn't know him from a bar of soap, but I knew instantly what he was talking about. He said, 'Meryl, I know you're just trying to do your groceries, but can I tell you a quick story?' And I said, 'Of course. Sure.' He said: 'A number of years ago, I was at the cricket. I was in the members. I'd never been there before, and I've never been there since. But at the break I stood up, and I was stretching, and, as I spun around, the bloke behind me was doing the same thing. It was John Howard. He was the Prime Minister. In that moment, I thought, "How good is Australia?" I can be here at the cricket with the Prime Minister.' Then he said: 'That's my Australia. Now, I know a few years have gone by, but that's still Australia. That's the Australia I want to live in. And you know what? You politicians, you do a pretty good job. But you know what? We need you to be out in our communities. You need to keep doing that. You need to keep turning up.'

I've really reflected on that conversation amidst all of the pain and the sadness and the shock and the horror. I just keep going back to that bloke in the fruit shop, and thinking that we've got to hang on to those sentiments. We've got to have a belief and an understanding that we are better than this. He wasn't describing anything particularly extraordinary. He was describing, for him, something that was wonderfully Australian—the idea that you could go along to the cricket, enjoy a game and happen to sit with someone like a prime minister and that public life and everyday life could sit side by side without fear or hostility. I think that man captured something important about this country. We want to live in a country where people can go about their lives, where our public representatives are a part of our community and where differences of opinion do not take away from our shared humanity.

I want to acknowledge the people who came to Helen's aid in those moments after the attack. Ordinary Australians stepped forward when someone needed them and offered assistance, comfort and care in what must have been an incredibly confronting situation. They didn't stop to consider who Helen was, what she believed in, what differences they might have or how she may or may not have voted in this chamber. They saw a person in need and helped. They stepped up. That simple act of humanity says something more about Australia, too, because this is about more than politics; it is about how we treat one another, particularly when life is difficult, when emotions are running high and when we disagree, often vehemently. Civic leaders are people too, and behind every public figure is a human being with a family, people who love them and their own challenges and vulnerabilities. Choosing to serve your community should never mean accepting cruelty, intimidation or threats as part of your job. I just want to say again: Helen, get well. We love you. May the wind be at your back.