Franco Fridays: As you go...

Sacre Coeur and Montmartre are good places to go where you can see both the beauty and culture in Paris, as well as get a glimpse of how hard immigrants work to live there.  I'm not sure if I mentioned before that the Punjabi people are considered a people group unreached by the gospel.  But they are being reached in Paris.  When we visited last year we were able to meet the first young man Parker shared the gospel with who believed in Jesus.

It was a hot day, and there were several guys selling cold drinks for a euro.  It made you really glad to see them both for the opportunity to connect them with Christians who speak their language and for that cup of cold water they offered.

It was a fun experience to be in Europe during the World Cup this year.  Even as someone who knows absolutely nothing about soccer, in a city with people from all over the world it was enjoyable just watching people be so excited about it.  You could walk by different restaurants and pubs representing different countries and cuisines and hear all the yelling and cheers at the television.

Being in Montmartre always reminds of the movie, Funny Face, and I hear Audrey Hepburn singing, "I must philosophize with all the guys, around Montmartre..."

We walked to dinner where we ran into a group of girls from Texas and also met a man outside the restaurant who has, what seems to us, one of the most discouraging jobs:  selling flowers.

Your heart broke for these guys, who walk by restaurants trying to sell flowers, and they're constantly turned down, and their product is perishable.  One night at the end of our trip KJ and I were alone, and we had one more Bengali tract left to hand out, and we saw a guy walking in the opposite direction.  I had KJ chase him down, and we laughed later at how novel it must have been for him to have a tourist chase him down and beg to pay a ridiculous amount of money for one rose.  The rose-seller's smile was so big, and I told KJ I'd never loved him more for buying me that flower.

Just carrying my bass...

Back to the Metro where the Concorde station boasted some cool design.

And then back to our bus stop, Porte Maillot, just in time for sunset over the city, maybe around 10:30?

We had one more opportunity that night.  I think KJ bought some bananas and gave him some information and the number of a Bengali-speaking pastor.

Good night, Paris.