In a few short weeks I will be going to watch my 40th performance of Les Miserables (《悲惨世界》). I fell in love with the songs back in 1985 when they were first released — Bring Him Home, I Dreamed A Dream and On My Own. Even as a head teacher, I hadn’t read the Victor Hugo novel and knew very little about the musical, but the songs captured my attention instantly and I happily sang along whenever I heard them on the radio.

Five years later I set out on a trip around the world with my wife and daughter. On one of our stops in Vancouver, Canada, I saw a large advertising banner promoting Les Miserables and immediately suggested booking tickets. On the drive to the theatre, we discussed what we knew of the storyline — nothing but the French Revolution. But we did love the rollercoaster ride of emotions and the tragic story of Jean Valjean when enjoying it.

On the late-night drive home, on a high after this amazing performance, I announced that I wanted to perform in the musical when we returned to Australia. This was an incredible statement, given we lived 50 kilometers from the nearest large town, Toowoomba. There was little likelihood of ever having a chance to perform. But the Toowoomba Choral Society bought the performance rights in 1992 with the view to perform it in 1994. I had seen a few of their performances but was not a member of the choir. They called for auditions and, emboldened by the chance to be part of the “Les Mis” experience, I went along. I had had no experience singing and had never performed in any musicals but I believed in miracles and hoped for a place for me somewhere in the chorus.

I tried out for the part of Javert with others as well as the students from the University of Southern Queensland. Rehearsals (排练) started immediately and I got a crash course in singing, acting and dancing. There was so much to learn and as I drove to rehearsals three times a week a little voice would say, “You are in over your head, get out now.”

The rehearsal process was tough.

Opening night was amazing.

Mary was fond of outdoor activities, especially the beauty of nature. She would often spend her weekends hiking, biking, or simply taking long walks in the countryside. She had a group of close friends who shared the same enthusiasm for the outdoors.

One day, while enjoying a cup of coffee at a local cafe, Mary’s friend Jenny approached her with an exciting idea. “Mary, have you ever thought about stargazing (观星) in the wilderness?” Jenny asked, her eyes shining with excitement. Mary’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face. “Stargazing? That sounds incredible! Count me in,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with expectation.

The plan was set for a cool evening when the sky would be at its clearest. As the day turned into night, the two friends gathered their warmest clothes, packed some snacks and hot chocolate, and set off on their adventure. They began their journey from Mary’s house.

As they walked hand in hand, their breath turned into misty clouds in the cool night air. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, casting a darkness on their path. But instead of feeling scared, they felt a rush of excitement washing over them. The stillness of the night, broken only by the soft whispers of the wind, brought a newfound peace to their mind.

They walked through the streets, little by little, the city lights faded, and the stars above became increasingly obvious. They couldn’t help but feel amazed by the countless stars that decorated the sky. They decided not to choose the well-known path and wandered deeper into the wilderness. Fireflies (萤火虫) danced gracefully, lighting up the night sky.

Mary’s eyes widened with childlike wonder as she watched the tiny creatures create their magical light show. Absorbed in chats and laughter, they failed to notice when the familiar sights started to disappear, slowly getting swallowed by the tall trees of the forest.

Suddenly, Mary’s heart skipped a beat as she realized they had lost their way.

Determined, the two friends set off, guided by the light of the North Star.

The little bird perched itself on the tree branch outside Vanessa’s bedroom window. It trilled (啼啭) an energetic song as the first pale yellow rays of sunshine peeked over the horizon.

“Oh my gosh, what is that noise?” she complained to herself, pulling her bed sheets over her head in an attempt to drown out the chirping. It was no use, and she knew it. The loud tweeting signalled the coming of the day. To confirm it, Vanessa’s mom knocked twice on her door, and then came in with a smile. “Time to get up, Sleepyhead,” she whispered. “The early bird catches the worm, you know.”

“Ugh,” mumbled Vanessa into her pillow. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s just an expression, Honey,” her mom replied. She gave Vanessa a kiss on the cheek and urged her to get out of bed. Vanessa rolled over and slept for a few more minutes.

Vanessa shuffled her way downstairs for breakfast, ate slowly, and missed her bus. When she finally got to school, she had missed attendance and had to get a late pass. She missed the first part of math class, so she didn’t understand the lesson and had to get extra help. Her teacher gave her extra homework to make sure she knew it. This day was no fun.

The next morning, Vanessa was woken up by the same loud, twittering song. Instead of ignoring it, today Vanessa walked over to the window and opened the curtains. Soft light filled the room. “Well, hello there, little fellow,” she said when she saw the pretty bird outside, still chirping happily. It was startled by her voice and flew down to land on the fresh dew of the morning grass. As she watched, the bird cocked its head, plunged its beak into the wet ground, and plucked out a wiggling worm for breakfast.

“Hmm,” thought Vanessa, “maybe I can try being an early bird for once.”

Vanessa couldn’t help humming a merry tone on her way home.