The remarkable true life story of Peter Newman (Part 6)

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A Way of Escape

The Major called me into his office. "Peter," he said, looking up from his big wooden desk, "I want you to take the hostel takings to the bank for me, please."

I stared at him in disbelief. There were over four hundred beds in that hostel and that added up to an awful lot of money. This had to be some kind of joke.

"Er, you're just havin' me on, Sir," I said to him, "because I ain't ever been in a bank before in my life and I just wouldn't know what to do." Well, I made that my excuse anyway. The real reason for my hesitation was that I didn't trust myself with all those pound notes. Didn't the Major know that in times past I would have cheerfully nicked a pair of wings from an angel without even a twinge of remorse? Now, being a hostel foreman (my new position) was one thing, but trusting me with hundreds of pounds was another. It was out of the question.

The Major, however, didn't share my point of view. He thrust the cash bag and the paying book at me, told me to hand it all over to the cashier in the bank, then stood up to see me to the door. I was fuming. I turned to him on the steps of the hostel and said accusingly, "Major, you do realize what you're doing, don't you?"

"Yes, I know exactly what I'm doing, Peter. Now get a move on or else the bank'll be closed before you even get there," and in he marched leaving me grasping the blue bank bag. I stepped onto the street feeling absolutely livid. The Major was deliberately giving me the chance to take his money, and it was very likely that I would take him up on his offer. There was I, trying to lead a good, straight Christian life, and all he could do to help was to thrust temptation into my hands. I headed dismally up the road. The bank was only five hundred yards away, but it felt like five hundred miles. I watched the buses as they roared past me. "Now that one would take me out of Manchester," I said to myself, but before I could continue my little mental dialogue, a very strange thing happened. My feet broke into a run and I sped post haste to the bank. I almost fell through the door before throwing the bag and paying-in book at the cashier. "Here," I said, "cop this little lot." He gave me a strange look and then started counting the cash and marking up the book.

He handed the empty bag and the book back to me and I stormed out of the bank towards the hostel. I knew that God had taken a hold of my feet and had caused me to run to the bank before I could do anything silly like making off with the money, but I wasn't angry with Him. No, it was the Major I was angry with; he'd been the one to put temptation across my path and I was jolly well going to give him a big piece of my mind. I raced up the hostel steps and barged into his office without even knocking at the door.
"Here," I said, throwing the book and the bag on his desk, "and don't you ever do that again. You knew I'd think about making off with it all, and a nice mess I'd be in now if I had."

I don't know what I expected him to do, but smiling wasn't on my list of guesses. He stood up and walked round his desk and put his arm on my shoulder.

"Peter," he said, "I had to trust God just as you did. I've been let down more times than I care to remember but I had to give you the chance to prove something to yourself. Something very important happened to you today. Now off you go and just think about it."

Well, I felt the wind drain out of my sails. All the anger I'd felt just disappeared as I turned round and meekly went out of his office and up the stairs to my cubicle. I sat on my bed and thought about what he'd said. Something important, he'd told me. Well, yes, God had helped me to resist a temptation which would have destroyed me, once upon a time. He'd made a way of escape for me. I reckon He knew that I really didn't want to walk out of His will by doing something dishonest, so He made my feet move a little faster than normal. Yes, I thought to myself, I've learned that sin and the old ways don't have to rule you when you're saved. In the old days it was as if I couldn't help but do wrong, but things were different now. I really was a new person.

I remember the thrill of getting my first week's pay at the hostel. It had been years since I had done an honest day's work and it felt good to pick up my little pay cheque from the hostel office. I'd earned the grand sum of thirteen shillings (65 pence) and as soon as I got it, I took the bus into Salford where I marched into a second-hand clothes shop. A man and a woman were standing behind the counter.

"Now listen," I said, closing the door behind me. "I've got thirteen bob and need to be rigged out. These are all the clothes I've got," I said, pointing at my dirty old suit, "so what can you do for me, guvnor? You see, this is the story. Jesus has done something for me. You see how tatty and dirty my clothes are. Well, I used to be like that on the inside as well but Jesus has cleaned me up..." And on I went for the next quarter of an hour. I gave them my testimony and didn't miss anything out.

When I finished, the man spoke up. "I'm a Methodist," he said, his voice trembling. "I haven't been to church in years but I'm definitely going this Sunday. I'd almost forgotten that God is real."

The woman spoke up next. "What about me?" she said. "I'm a Roman Catholic but I've never heard anything like this before. I want to be like you."

But I never had the sense or wisdom to lead them to the Lord. I started to explain why I only had thirteen shillings to spend on my new wardrobe. "So what have you got that'll fit me?" I asked them. Well, I came out of that shop kitted up with everything I needed, from shoes to vests. They even gave me some free shaving gear and I said goodbye to them feeling richer than a king.

Life at the hostel was running smoothly but I started to feel unsettled. God was ready to move me on.