The member for Indi, Helen Haines, and I entered this parliament together in 2019. I remember sitting opposite Helen and her husband, Phil, in those early days, struck by the strength of their partnership. They were a team. The love and respect between them and the confidence they gave one another was unmistakeable. Not long ago, Helen and I were chatting about the Midwinter Ball. She told me she could only get one ticket this year, which meant Phil couldn't come and she wasn't going without him. It was a small conversation, but it said so much about their marriage. Watching Phil speak publicly this past week, I thought about that conversation. He was a husband facing something unimaginable speaking with such love and courage about his wife. He told us Helen was a fighter determined to do her best and, with her family's and his love and support, she was going to recover. I hope Phil knows that the love he spoke of extends far beyond their family. He has the affection and support of this entire parliament, as does Helen.

Helen truly graces the corridors of parliament. Over seven years, we've stopped for many chats about politics, our families, our communities and life. She has a rare generosity of spirit. She listens, she cares and she sees the person beyond the politics. I've always believed in the strength of compassion. It isn't weakness. It's an attribute that can't be taught. Helen has it in abundance. That's why what happened to her seems so difficult to comprehend—Helen, of all people.

In the days since the attack, I've thought about those who came to Helen's aid. When she needed help, her people ran towards her. They could have turned away, but they didn't. They responded to terrible violence with extraordinary courage and compassion. We spend a great deal of time in this parliament defending our democratic institutions, our freedoms and our right to disagree, and rightly so. But there is something else we have a responsibility to preserve—the humanity in our democracy, the decency to recognise another person's suffering regardless of who they are or what they believe, the trust that allows us to walk amongst the people that we represent and the compassion that brings neighbours and strangers to another person's aid. Strong communities are the foundation of a strong democracy, and Helen understands that. She has never treated public life as a performance. She has treated it as service, being present, listening and earning the trust of her community and, when she needed help, her community was there for her.

Inspired by Helen, on the day after I walked down the main street of my electorate. I know others did too. I felt like I was being defiant. People stopped me. I even got hugs. People asked after Helen. They didn't know her. My people from Penrith had never met the member for Indi, yet they cared. There was no politics in those conversations, just everyday Australians showing concern for another human being. It reminded me of the Australia that we must never lose and why we cannot allow fear to put distance between us and the people we serve.

There is something different about being a woman in politics. We face particular scrutiny, hostility and personal attacks and, increasingly, those pressures reach into our communities and our private lives. We should never accept intimidation as simply part of the job. That makes it all the more important that we have opportunities to connect, to share our experiences, to support one another and to show compassion, even when our politics are different. Helen does that naturally. She understands that strong convictions and genuine friendships can exist together. She reaches across the aisle with warmth and respect, without compromising what she believes.

Relationships in here do matter. They extend beyond this parliament. They extend beyond this place. They extend into the way that we treat each other and how we treat our communities. Considering a tragedy has made us all a bit kinder to each other this week, I hope the solidarity we feel for Helen becomes something a bit more lasting than speeches, a parliament where we can disagree fiercely without losing respect, where friendships survive political differences and where compassion is recognised as a strength. Today, an orange cockatoo sits in Helen's spot, and I very much look forward to the day when that cockatoo flies away so Helen can take her seat again.