THERE are some moments in local government that are measured in millions of dollars, kilometres of new roads or hectares of development.
And then there are moments measured in something far more important — compassion.
The opening of Little Wings Lawn and Whispering Wallabies Garden at Redland Bay Cemetery is one of those moments.
The decision to create a dedicated space for families who have lost babies or children is a simple but profoundly important gesture by Redland City Council.
It acknowledges a grief that can be difficult to articulate and, for too long, has often been endured quietly.
Every life matters, regardless of how long it was lived.
One grave I saw today marked the life of a young baby who was only with us for 12 days.
For parents who lose a baby during pregnancy, at birth or in childhood, the absence of a place to remember can compound an already devastating experience.
A memorial garden cannot take away that pain.
But it can provide somewhere to go.
Somewhere to sit. Somewhere to reflect. Somewhere to place a name, a butterfly, a plant or a memory.
That matters.
What made Wednesday’s opening even more powerful was the decision by Acting Mayor Julie Talty to share her own personal story.
It takes considerable courage for anyone to publicly recount the loss of a child. It takes even greater bravery when you are standing before a community in an official capacity.
Cr Talty did not have to tell her story.
She chose to.
She spoke about losing a baby girl 25 years ago at a time when there was no official place to remember her.
She recalled that her daughter had fingers and toes and looked just like her sister.
And then came the simple, heartbreaking reality: “She has no resting place.”
Those words put a human face on the importance of what Council has created.
Cr Talty’s story was not about seeking sympathy. It was about explaining why places like this matter.
And her decision to later plant a Peace Baby at the new garden was a particularly fitting gesture.
It transformed what could have been a ceremonial act into something deeply personal.
A plant was placed into the earth — a small living thing that will grow, change and endure (and according to one of our green fingered readers could grow as high as 8m tall).
It is an appropriate symbol for a place created to remember lives that were tragically brief.
We should also recognise the people who often work quietly behind the scenes to make initiatives such as this happen.
The care and attention given by Council’s cemetery team deserves acknowledgement.
Creating a meaningful memorial space is not simply a matter of landscaping.
It requires understanding the emotional significance of the people who will use it.
It requires sensitivity to language, design, location and symbolism.
Most importantly, it requires recognising that those who walk through the gates may be carrying some of the heaviest grief imaginable.
The garden’s metal swamp wallabies offer a gentle sense of comfort and security for young children grieving the loss of a sibling.
And the three large boulders from North Stradbroke Island, where families can place a butterfly in memory of a loved one, are another thoughtful touch.
The cemetery team has helped create a space that treats that grief with dignity.
That is what good local government should do.
Councils are responsible for roads, rubbish, rates, parks and infrastructure. But they are also custodians of community and sometimes their most valuable work is providing care at the moments when people need it most.
Little Wings Lawn and Whispering Wallabies Garden reminds us that public spaces can do more than serve a practical purpose.
They can heal. They can connect. They can preserve memories.
And they can tell families who have experienced unimaginable loss that their children are not forgotten.
Cr Talty’s willingness to stand before the community and recount her own experience gave the opening a poignancy that no prepared speech could have achieved.
Told in her own Redland Bay Division 6, her story made the garden deeply personal.
And the work of the cemetery team has given that compassion a permanent place in the Redlands.
Sometimes leadership is not about making the biggest announcement or cutting the biggest ribbon.
Sometimes it is simply having the courage to say – we remember, we care, and there is a place here for you.
