We call ourselves a lucky country, and too right about that! There are serious problems in Australia - of course - and many reasons for great shame. But considering our history, which began with convict settlement and the "white fella" taking a land from another people, slowly, slowly we are getting there, together. In that, we have reason for pride.
We believe in fairness. We believe in mateship. We believe everyone has a right to a good life if they are willing to get off their butt and do something about it. We know life wasn't meant to be easy - but that doesn't stop us being layback about it too. "No problem" is one of my favourite expressions.
We help each other in life - if we don't, doors stay shut between us and we live a very lonely life.
For years, I was content to remain just an aussie. Safe in my good country, where I brought up my family and worked hard to achieve my writing dreams. I know now that is not enough. I am part of a global family. That there are far too many of my brothers and sisters in this world hurting and hating so much they need to pull their global family into their circle of suffering. A world event taught me that.
11th of the ninth month, 2001.
In the black of night, I wake and find myself alone in bed. I look at the alarm clock - it's close to midnight. Since our four children have grown from babies, I rarely wake up at this time. I feel uneasy - something's wrong.
Not yet fully awake, I stumble out of my bed in search for my husband - to find him and my beautiful daughter "clued" to the television, watching a video. It must be a video. The television screen shows a plane flying into one of the Towers of the World Trade building. My daughter leans on her father as if she seeks reassurance, comfort, protection. Why do I feel like I just stepped off a precipice, and am free falling?
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