Idalie Gil sees something of a miracle when she visits apartment 7 in south Charlotte's Grand Oaks community.

On any given afternoon, over two dozen Latino and African-American children will cram into the two-bedroom unit, playing board games, doing homework and sharing Popsicles.

Gil remembers a time not so long ago, when Latinos in Grand Oaks viewed their African-Americans neighbors with suspicion, after the community experienced a spike in robberies and assaults on immigrants.

That attitude may be changing, she says, thanks to an unexpected benefactor: the Salvation Army of Greater Charlotte.

The agency launched its first Hispanic Ministry in Grand Oaks, and the unexpected result appears to be a coming together of former adversaries, says Gil.

"Hispanics felt picked on by African-Americans. They would see African-Americans and want to... grrrrr," she says, squeezing her hands together as if choking someone.

"It's less tense now. Hispanics don't feel they have to look over their shoulders and be scared that African-Americans will do something that will get us arrested and deported."

Adds neighbor Leticia Contreras: "Now that the children are playing together, it has made us feel safer."

The Salvation Army started the Hispanic Ministry a year ago on a $53,500 budget, supplemented by donated furniture, games and apartment space.

Its programs offer something for all ages, including afterschool tutoring, a food pantry, social services counseling, emergency transportation and a summer camp.

The aim was to help struggling Latino families. But something unexpected happened along the way, say coordinators Kally and Luis Juarez of the Salvation Army.

African-American children started showing up to join in.

Now, on any given afternoon, you'll find Latino, black and even some white kids lined up together for cups of Doritos and animal crackers, hunched over tables playing board games, or working side by side on homework.

It has become a very loud, a very messy, but a very successful bilingual mission.

"In the beginning, Hispanic kids and African-American kids didn't hang out. They called each other names," says Luis Juarez. "There was some resistance, but I worked hard to bring down that wall of tension."

The Salvation Army launched the program in Grand Oaks because of the large number of Latino tenants. But the neighborhood was a good choice for other reasons, namely its history of violence against Latinos, including the 2001 robbery and murder of Israel Jimenez.

Within a year of the killing, Charlotte-Mecklenburg police launched an initiative to help Latinos living in Grand Oaks and four other apartment communities. The goal was to change conditions that made Hispanics easy prey for robbers, including habits of carrying large sums of cash, officials said.

It succeeded, with robberies of Hispanics in the five apartment complexes dropping 38 percent in a year.

Tensions lingered, however, which is one reason a new management company at Grand Oaks, Drucker and Falk, offered to lend the Salvation Army a two-bedroom apartment for its outreach.

"It was definitely a troubled community," says DeAnn Helm, who has been property manager for 13 months.

"Actually, there was no sense of community. When we first came here, the residents were very standoffish. If you said hello, they looked at you like 'Are you talking to me?'"

Drucker and Falk hoped bringing in the program would create more stability among the tenants, and Helm says it has worked.

An example is Denise Johnson, an African-American mother whose son Aaron, 17, is considered a big brother to the smaller children in the apartment community.

The family has lived in Grand Oaks for a year and recently renewed its lease so Aaron could stay involved with the outreach.

Johnson marvels that the once-shy teen is going to church and volunteering, including handing out blankets and coffee to the homeless in the winter.

Thanks to the outreach, Aaron recently landed his first job - working at a Salvation Army camp this summer.

"I do not want to pull him away from something so positive in the community," says his mother. "You don't see many 17-year-olds giving time to help others."

As for tension in the neighborhood, she has not seen it in her year in Grand Oaks. "I keep my eye on things, and I've noticed that they all get along well."

Aaron says there are a lot of reasons he has stuck with the program, but the most important is that it feels like an extended family.

"It has changed my life," he says. "I realize the other kids look up to me and it has helped me become more of a man."

Kally and Luis Juarez say the Aaron is among several success stories in the program, and a big reason why it is no longer about one race.

"This is about transforming people," says Kally. "There are no lost causes, no matter what economic or spiritual situation you're in.

"There's always hope for something better."