It's been 15 years since I was a missionary in Paris. One of my favorite places to wander on a "preparation day" was the grounds of the Pompidou Center. It's a modern art museum that looks like a hamster cage with escalators in colored tubes climbing the sides of the building and overlooking a large square usually filled with musicians, performers, street hawkers, caricature artists, and the like. A few of us sang Christmas carols there once while our tone deaf companions handed out pamphlets.

Elder Mattoon and I were there on a particularly miserable day and came across a musician singing Creedence, Tracy Chapman, and The Beatles. We stayed and listened for a long time - because pagan tunes are not against the rules if you just hear them on the street. I can still hear his accent -- I wa-a-no ha-you-evah seeeeen the rain. When he moved on to Here Comes the Sun, I swear the sun broke through the clouds! (See some photos from that era, including a fire-breathing caveman who let you throw darts at his belly for 10 francs.)

Jump forward 15 years to last month. I passed through the Pompidou square trying desperately to find a grocery store that sold Chocolate Cruesli cereal. (I finally found some and bought six boxes to cram into my luggage. I have 2 1/2 left.) And there he was! Singing Tracy Chapman's Baby, Can I Hold You. His accent and guitar prowess hadn't improved a lick in 15 years, but it was still beautiful music to me.

Here he was 15 years ago -