Up against the fence there was a small space, underneath the trees. Tropical sunlight filtered through the leaves and speckled the ground with shifting shapes. Plastic flower petals, ready to sprinkle on the ground, filled my hand as I faced the young couple in front of me,

A young couple who were to be parents again in the coming months.

A young couple who had fled the strife and trouble in Sri Lanka, hoping for a better life in Australia.

A young couple who had lost their first little one in the seas between Indonesia and Australia when their boat capsized.

A young couple who were now in off-shore detention in Nauru.

And, as the Salvo officer in the camps, they’d asked me to hold a memorial service for the baby they’d lost as they sought asylum as a family.

As a Salvo officer in Canberra, I’d always seen it as a huge privilege to hold funeral services. I felt privileged that grieving families allowed me a window into their lives at such a painful time. And I considered it a gift to open up space for people to share their memories of the one they’d lost, and to hold space for them as they began the long journey of adding the experience of loss to their life stories.

Now I was doing the same thing in a very different place, with people whose faith was different mine (I was from a Christian faith background, were Hindus), with people who had lost so much and had so little. And it was still a huge privilege, one I did not undertake lightly, one I valued highly and found humbling.

Humbling because of the trust this young couple placed in me as a person.

Humbling because I was learning afresh that people of faith understand people of faith, regardless of their faith differences.

Humbling because I had so much and they had so little and yet all I could give to them was myself, my words and my actions.

The overarching memory I have of this experience is one of great peace. I hear the wind sloughing through the trees. I see the sunlight flecking the ground with light and shadow. I feel the stillness that came for these two people as I said carefully chosen sentences in simple English.

This couple had shown so much courage in their young lives, none less than the courage they had to trust me to aid them in farewelling their baby. Despite our many differences of language, faith, culture and life experience, we connected in a place of peace. In a place where we were strangers, my heart met theirs.

And, although I cannot remember their names or even their faces, I will never forget them or the courage they showed in trusting me.