One of the most enjoyable things I do at Government House and

Quentin Bryce, the first woman to serve as Governor-General of Australia, once said: “One of the most enjoyable things I do at Government House and when I travel around Australia is to talk with children. I tell them about our parliamentary democracy—and I often do that as I’m walking into an Executive Council meeting next door!” At first glance, her words seem simple, a gentle remark about daily duties. Yet beneath them lies a treasure of wisdom, for she reveals the sacred link between the innocence of children and the institutions of democracy, between the playfulness of youth and the weight of governance.

Her joy in speaking with children is not accidental. For children are the unbroken promise of tomorrow, the blank pages upon which the stories of nations are written. To share with them the meaning of parliamentary democracy is to plant seeds of citizenship, to awaken in tender hearts the understanding that government is not a distant machine, but the people’s instrument. She does this not in lofty chambers, not with pomp or ceremony, but in simple conversations, sometimes even while stepping into the solemn halls of the Executive Council. Thus, she shows that teaching and governing are not separate, but entwined.

The ancients knew this truth well. Plato himself declared that the education of the young was the cornerstone of the state, for the child of today is the ruler of tomorrow. A government that neglects its children prepares for its own ruin, but a government that instructs them in justice and freedom secures its future. Bryce embodies this ancient wisdom: she does not wait for children to come of age to teach them of democracy, but begins while their hearts are still malleable, shaping them toward service and understanding.

History too offers examples of leaders who took delight in teaching the young. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who in the midst of war, found time to kneel on the floor of the White House to read to his son Tad. Though burdened with the destiny of a nation, he understood that a parent’s instruction, a leader’s kindness to children, was as vital as any speech or decree. Just so, Bryce shows that even in the corridors of power, there is room for gentle words to the young, for the strength of a nation lies not only in its laws, but in the vision of its children.

Her words also remind us that democracy is not a cold system of rules, but a living story that must be retold in every generation. Without instruction, the young may grow to see it only as distant ritual. But with guidance, they may see it as their inheritance, their duty, and their pride. Bryce’s practice of weaving education into daily acts of governance teaches us that democracy thrives not only in parliaments, but in conversations, in classrooms, and even in casual encounters between a leader and a child.

The lesson is clear: each of us, no matter our station, has the power and responsibility to share the values of justice, freedom, and respect with the young. Do not wait for formal lessons or grand occasions—teach as you live, by word and by example. When you vote, when you speak of fairness, when you resolve disputes with kindness, you are teaching democracy as surely as Bryce does in Government House.

Practically, this means taking time to listen to children, to explain the world to them with honesty and hope. Share stories of your country, tell them of the struggles that won them freedom, and inspire them with the vision of what they themselves may become. Remember always that democracy is not inherited fully formed—it must be renewed with every child who grows to maturity.

Thus, O listener, take inspiration from Quentin Bryce’s wisdom. Rejoice in the chance to speak to the young, for they are the guardians of tomorrow. Honor parliamentary democracy not only in the council chambers, but in the simple act of sharing it with curious minds. In this way, life itself becomes a lesson, governance becomes a dialogue, and democracy endures—not as a dusty structure of law, but as a living flame passed from generation to generation.