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I heard a preacher tell a story the other day:

A young man had always dressed very casual. He could afford to dress finer but he didn't-it wasn't his style. He had tattoos and even went shoeless most of the time.

When he was in his second year of college he was introduced to the Lord. He decided to visit the church near his campus.

He did go one Sunday, arriving 30 minutes into the service. The church was packed, as always. He stood at the back of the church in his t-shirt, tattoos exposed, barefooted. The preacher, already into his sermon, could see him back there, trying to spot a seat. As the young man stepped forward, the preacher could hear the gasps as more and more people saw him and he wondered what would happen. As the young man got closer to the front of the church it was less likely he would find a seat. Instead of turning back though, all eyes watched as he reached the front of the aisle and simply sat down on the floor. The silence was deafening. A deacon, a very properly dressed man, mid 70's in age, stepped forward toward the young man on the floor. Yes, he would take care of this, the congregation was sure.

The deacon reached the young man's side and everyone watched as he gingerly lowered himself to the floor to sit beside the visitor-not easy at his age-and they listened to the rest of the sermon together. The words of the sermon that day will most likely be forgotten as time goes by but the lesson the deacon taught will be remembered for a long time.

The lesson is: You might be the only "bible" a person ever reads.