For years, Doug Banister, a Christian from Knoxville, Tennessee, had taken mission trips to Romania. God had moved powerfully on those trips, but Doug sensed a call to get more involved in the raw needs of his own community. So he became the head coach for a swim team started by a Christian urban youth ministry. It was there that he met a young boy named Martin. Martin was painfully thin for his age and kept shivering uncontrollably by the pool, even through a heat wave. Doug shares what happened next with Martin:

A few weeks later, Martin squeezed in beside me on the bus ride to our first swim meet. He was a wiry, bouncy 10-year-old … [who] could rarely sit still long enough to hear the workout set. Yet today he slumped down against the window and curled into a ball.

"Coach Doug," Martin asked, "can I have my dinner now? I haven't eaten in two days." A father of four, I know a con when I see one. "No, buddy," I teased. "You need to wait until after the meet like everyone else."

The summer got even hotter, and Martin kept shivering. One evening, a social worker who knew Martin dropped by the pool. I asked her if she knew why Martin always shivered. She pulled me aside and whispered, "It's because he's literally starving. The woman he lives with told a judge that she was 'starving the Devil out of him.'"

Martin never stopped shivering that summer, but he did start swimming faster …. Then Martin stopped showing up. Nobody at his house returned our calls, and Martin missed the rest of our meets. At our year-end swim banquet, we gave Martin the "Most Improved Swimmer" award. He wasn't there to receive it. A friend and I drove the award to his house after the banquet. After many knocks, a man answered the door. He wasn't happy to see us. We handed him Martin's trophy and told him how well Martin swam. "I don't know where he is," the man said. He shut the door.

Doug's encounter with at-risk youth like Martin in his own community profoundly changed him. He confessed, "I realized that I knew more about poverty in [Romania] than I knew about poverty in Knoxville. I was pursuing the common good of a city across the world while neglecting the common good of the place where I lived."