Four special people whom I met while exploring the vast diversity of Turkey - each had a profound and enduring influence on me, my way of thinking and my appreciation for the life I lead.

The first was a young man of 25 who was working at one of the hotels in a beautiful coastal city in Turkey.

It didn't take long for me to realise he was either working up the courage to say hello or deciding how he would tell me I was only allowed to return to the buffet three times - four was probably pushing it.

Finally, he came over to meet me. He was Syrian born and raised, but had come to Turkey to complete his university studies. I can't justifiably put into words how relieved this friendly, engaging and intelligent young man was to be living - albeit temporarily - in the security and safety of Turkey.

With no prompting, he explained to me that threat, fear, hostility and suffering was a daily part of life for him, his family and his friends. He wasn't looking for sympathy, it was matter of fact.

As I looked at this young man, I could see myself mirrored in him in many ways. He loved sport, travelling, reading books, he had siblings he adored and he wanted to make a difference in the world. He wasn't much taller than me and, after I had enjoyed a little too much Turkish sun, our skin was the same colour.

Our biggest difference was simple. When my holiday eventually ended, I would be excited, happy and even a little relieved to be going home. This young man was willing to sacrifice returning to the family and friends he spoke of with such pride, the home he grew up in and all the places that are familiar to shelter in Turkey and never return to Syria.

Less than a week later, Mum, Dad and I found ourselves in a tiny, cramped café ordering lunch in another incredible city.

Sitting opposite us - by opposite I mean perhaps 30 centimetres away - was a young woman nursing various textbooks. Again, the sensation I felt before my Syrian friend came over to me. We all knew she was listening intently to us. Finally, she asked: "You're not American?"

This wasn't the first time we had been asked this while travelling through Turkey. In fact for most of the trip people assumed I was South American.

However, when this woman posed her question to us, her reason for doing so shocked me in a way I'll never forget.

She was from Iran, and like the beautiful couple we met in our final days in Turkey, she truly did not think she could approach an American – let alone a whole family – and strike up a conversation with them.

It's not that they don't want to, it's a perception and belief that they can't.

This upset me. I had to look away from her face so she wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. I would talk to anyone – meeting and connecting with new people is one of life's greatest privileges. I honestly can not comprehend feeling like I can't approach someone.

I truly felt for her, but what she said next resonated with me in a way nothing has before.

Keep in mind this woman in her late 20s is extremely intelligent, having completed university degrees in subjects I had to Google later to understand.

"It's not just Americans. I wasn't sure I could talk to you either, but I could hear you speaking and I wanted to meet you," she said.

"We know that you don't like us."

There it was, the moment my heart broke for this girl – I was now thinking of her as a girl because she seemed so vulnerable.

How do you explain to someone that you don't hate them, or their friends or family?

Or that you would love to visit Tehran and immerse yourself in the rich and ancient culture of Iran one day, but probably not right now?

And that you feel enriched and inspired by the chance to gain a greater understanding of Muslim culture and beliefs?

She went on to explain she was undertaking further studies to sit an exam to secure a visa to Australia. She was desperate to move here - "such a safe place, where the people are happy and good to one another". Her simplicity captured the essence of my country in a way I often take for granted.

My final special encounter came with the lovely couple I mentioned earlier. We came across this recently married pair while we were lining up to visit a castle.

Again, it was obvious they were nervously watching us. Finally with a huge smile on her face, she lightly touched my shoulder and asked: "Are you Australian?"

They were also also from Iran. They were so loving, they adored each other.

In the short time we spoke, they painted a picture of a life I could not imagine. Their freedom to pursue their dreams and carve out a life of their choosing was so limited.

It came as no surprise that they too were preparing to sit the exam which offered them a chance to relocate to Australia. An exam so weighted that they have only one shot at it. I used to get so nervous before a maths exam that I would spell my own name wrong. Could you imagine sitting an exam that would dictate your entire future?

I still think of them now and hope they make it. I hope they find the rewarding lives they aspire. And that they have the chance to provide the up-bringing and experiences I enjoyed as a child to their future children. I hope Australia welcomes them, and the many others who I didn't meet but undoubtedly share similar stories.

Uncertainty, fear, hostility and threat can quickly change the way we think. Already in the days following the horror we have seen unfold in Australia, there has been an immediate affect on innocent people.

I am not downplaying the shocking incidents that have taken place, nor do I believe my understanding of the global situation puts me in a position to write about these events. This piece is merely trying to humanise those people who are also embroiled in this alarming and horrific conflict.

When you look through history, it doesn't matter which country or era you focus on, you find evidence of people suffering at the hands of those capable of extreme acts, whom hold extreme views and beliefs.

We can't turn our back on the blameless, victimise the innocent and permit and spread hate based a person's religion and beliefs. Just in the same way we would never discriminate against someone for being disabled, of a different race or gender.

There is a united need to take action against those people who pose a great threat to the safety and security of our country and countries around the world.

But, we need to remember we aren't alone in our fear. Never has there been a stronger need for us all to show compassion, empathy, understanding, respect and humanity.

We can't let ignorance and prejudicial attitudes close our doors and hearts to those in greater need.