(Please note before you email me: this is in the *Humor* section. That means it may or may not be related to history as we understand it, but may be related to other realities :-)

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"Somebody stole my Bible," said Andy Jenkins. "They swiped it. I seen it in the house one day and the next it was gone. Then I talked with Gladys Pride and she said somebody done took her Bible, too. We got ourselves an honest to goodness Bible thief here in Jonesboro, Tennessee. Who do you suppose is dumb enough to steal Bibles? And what do you think they doing with them Bibles?"

"I knowed it ain't the Devil because he can't touch the Bible. Gets the shivers. Screams bloody murder. The Devil don't like getting near the Bible. He can hear the pages whisper when they get turned and he cringes. You ain't never going to see the Devil anywhere near the Good Book. You recite scripture to the Devil. He covers his ears and runs away. I seen him skedaddle off like a jackrabbit been shot. He jumped clean up in the air some twenty foot and flapped his arms. Flew off toward Watauga Lake. I think he hid out in the mountains all that summer."

"If anybody took my Bible, I do hope it was because they needed one. They needed the word of the Lord. Real bad. If that's the case, I'm willing to forgive and forget. Seeing how the Good Book done more good for somebody else. Maybe the person had a good reason to swipe my Bible."

"Don't think anybody has ever stole a Bible in east Tennessee," said Hilda Vernon. "Never has happened. I own a Bible store in town and nobody has ever shoplifted a Bible. Not the King James Version, nor the Revised Standard Version. Or them Modern Times versions. Not a single Bible has ever been lifted. We take inventory. We know how many Bibles we got."

"Ever since The Evangelical Spectator published that story on The Bible Thief we been counting our Bibles. And there all there. Every cotton-picking dern one of them. I mean it's astounding we ain't been hit. The store is right in the middle of town. Can't miss it. Every thief knows about us."

"Most folks got too much conscience to pinch a Bible. It would kill most Christians. They would grab hold of their chests, grimace like a grizzly bear and howl like wolf. Drop dead of a heart attack because they stole the Good Book."

"The police are on the look out for them missing Bibles. Eighteen is the last count. Eighteen stolen Bibles in Jonesboro. Ain't that the most awfullest thing you ever heard? Hit me like a truck, it did. People today ain't got no shame. Don't feel nothing for their fellow Christians. If I'd done that, I'd croaked."

"If I'd stole one of them there Bibles," said Effie Snavel. "And it stormed. I wouldn't go out because I knowed the Lord would strike me with a bolt of lightning. Snap, crackle, bop. Split me down the middle. Or maybe rocks will slide down a mountain and crush me. Or a truck come out of the blue and flatten me. Or I would drown at the lake."

"I bet the next person gets struck by lighting or dies in a traffic accident or ends up a drowning victim is the one. Could be anybody."

"I'm going to pray on it. I'm to ask the Lord to forgive the one who took them Bibles."

The next day The Evangelical Spectator learned that an impoverished old gentleman hitchhiking through Franklin, Tennessee on his way to no where particular had been apprehended. He'd confessed to stealing the Bibles. They arrested him for loitering and public intoxication. He'd been begging for money in the street. He carried the Bibles around with him in a laundry bag. He had burgled various houses in Jonesboro, taking only Bibles. Why? He was asked. "I don't know. It come to me them Bibles needed taking. So I took them. I wanted to sell them. But I couldn't."

"Funny, how that happened. Them Bibles whispered things to me. I'd be minding my own business and I'd hear them say things. Like how I wasn't an awful man. I wasn't no bum. I heard them Bibles saying how I wasn't mean and no good. How I was good for something. I brung them away with me, hoping them Bibles would help me. The first Bible I took made me feel young. And when I took another it made me feel smart. And the next Bible I took made me happy. And the next one gave me a feeling that I was important. So I kept taking them Bibles. Who can blame me?"

The sheriff reported the following day the Bible thief received packages. Lots of packages at the jail house. Each package contained a Bible. It was usually accompanied by a note: "Hope this Bible will be the one. Here's my old Bible. It's given me a lot. I hope it gives even more to you. Or I'm sending you my Bible. This one's been in my family for six decades. It means everything to me. But somehow I think it mean more to you."

from http://evangelicalspectator.typepad.com/the_evangelical_spectator/2006/08/the_bible_thief.html