The smiles say it all. The photograph on the front page of this newspaper this week of a Syrian refugee family and their new baby was heart-warming.
Husband and wife Mohomad Issa Alomar and Hana Alkhalil both escaped the carnage and terror of Syria, initially to Lebanon. From there, via the refugee resettlement centre in Mangere, they are among the first group of Syrian refugees to come to Dunedin, arriving in April.
Their 2-week-old daughter Meriam was born in the city, a milestone for the new community.
It must be extremely difficult for the refugees in a land so different, so far from extended family and faced with a foreign language and an alien culture.
Each will also have an individual story of dislocation and loss, often including trauma and grief. Yet, as Mr Alomar said, the city is safe and people have been kind and welcoming.
Just as for the Scottish settlers in Dunedin from 1848, education is a priority. The couple already have hopes the new baby might be a doctor and her 2-year-old sister a lawyer.
It has been sensible to keep the numbers coming to Dunedin modest - 49 (13 families) in the first wave of three over the year. The next group is due this month and up to 175 each year for the next three years.
While there are sufficient Syrians for mutual support, relatively modest numbers encourage more integration. At the same time, Dunedin people will feel more inclined to help.
It has been a good idea, for similar reason, for the refugees to be both in clusters around the city but not all together.
Support volunteers have found the experience challenging and interesting. Their role offering local knowledge, help with everyday life and a friendly face is important.
Dunedin can be proud of the way it has opened its hearts to the newcomers, but an important balance must be maintained if the city is to remain "onside''.
After all, there are still some 75 people on the state house waiting list in the Dunedin area. A recent article in this newspaper showed social support agencies were concerned about youth homelessness, too.
A survey conducted last year showed some young people were sleeping in cars and some young women were exchanging sexual favours for somewhere to sleep - an appalling indictment on our society.
And the news Housing New Zealand is selling 30 state houses in Mosgiel - surely a significant number in anyone's book - only raises more questions around the issue.
HNZ's reasoning is "low ongoing demand'', yet there are 75 people on a waiting list. Something does not add up. Of course the configurations might not be right.
It may be there is more need for smaller houses, it may be bus route and timetable changes have made Mosgiel a less viable alternative for some people, yet surely the priority is whether the houses offer a reasonable standard of living?
If they have been left to go to wrack and ruin, are contaminated, or are genuinely not fit for (Housing New Zealand's) purpose, they should either be bowled and others built, or sold. But if it is the latter, surely the profits should be reinvested in the city, which clearly does still have need.
It is, indeed, heart-warming our latest refugees are becoming a part of the fabric of the city, but we must ensure there are no loose threads, too. An interconnected and broad approach to need is vital, for a silo mentality does not help resolve the complex issues at play here.
