I'm currently in the process of reading the above-titled conversion story of Bishop Henry Grey Graham (1874-1959), author of Where We Got the Bible (among other things), and a convert from Presbyterianism. [As an aside, both his father and uncle were Presbyterian ministers, and his uncle, also named Henry Grey Graham (1842-1906), was a prolific author in his own right.] I found the following passage particularly beautiful:


At this period I bought a good deal more Catholic literature, including books, Catholic Truth Society pamphlets, and the like, but my knowledge of things Catholic was widened principally by visiting the houses of the Catholics in the parish, who were colliers. I always delighted in entering their homes, speaking with them, and picking up what information I could about their faith and practice. With true Catholic civility, they were always respectful; though they were horny-handed sons of toil, and I came to them as a wolf in sheep's clothing. I loved to see their holy pictures, crucifixes, and rosaries, and other evidences of their faith.

The thing that struck me most of all was the distinctively religious atmosphere about their dwellings, even the poorest and most degraded. There might not be a stick of furniture in the house, nor anything that you could truthfully call by the name of table or chair; the floor might be a mass of filth, the walls swarming with vermin, and the children all but naked; yet one thing you could never miss seeing-a picture of the Sacred Heart, or of our Blessed Lady, or of the Pope, or some such emblem of religion.

There was in that house a belief in the supernatural, a devotion to a religious creed, a remembrance of the existence and the nearness of the next world, that you would look for in vain in Presbyterian houses. It was touching to see it, and it impressed me beyond measure. These people, at all events, I would say to myself, do not forget eternity. Their religion perpetually reminds them of their relation to God; it lifts them above this sordid world and teaches them to remember the supernatural. It is not of the earth, earthy; it is not a religion for one day out of seven, like the Presbyterian; but it is an everyday reality. It is not put on, but is a part of their very selves.

* emphasis mine


You can read the full story here:

Part I - http://www.catholic.com/thisrock/1995/9507clas.asp
Part II - http://www.catholic.com/thisrock/1995/9509clas.asp