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Our Hellenic Youth Volunteering Initiative
Volunteering Schedule: July 2025, Athens
In July 2025, a team of local teens and teens of Greek heritage volunteered at 4 different Greek NGOS in Athens.
Action Program 1: July 25, 2025
Volunteering at Spitiko tis Agapis
Volunteering at Spitiko tis Agapis gave me a new understanding of what aging really means. I had never before spent time with elderly people who had no families or financial support, and it was both moving and eye-opening.
Before our visit began, the manager of Spitiko tis Agapis explained what to expect. Around fifty residents live there, most accepted because they have nowhere else to go. No children, no siblings — some don’t even have someone to attend their funeral when the time comes. That hit me. They live in single rooms and gather in a shared dining area with a large TV, where they eat meals served by the staff.
The building itself was warm and clean, like someone cared — really cared. The staff smiled constantly, but not in that forced customer service way. It felt genuine, like they actually knew and liked the people they were helping. There was something comforting about that.
I remember walking into the common area — a large room with a big TV playing softly in the background — and noticing how different everyone was. Some looked away when we entered, like they were unsure of us. Others lit up instantly, eager to talk. One man literally broke into tears when we arrived. Later, I saw him laughing quietly as he glued tiny scraps of napkin onto his tote bag. That contrast stayed with me.
An artist who volunteers there often led a decoupage art activity, and I thought I’d be helping a lot — steadying hands, passing scissors, that kind of thing. But nope. No one asked for help. Even the man whose hands shook visibly insisted on doing everything himself. There was this quiet dignity in how they worked — like every small act mattered more than we knew. When lunch was served, the mood shifted. The room grew quieter, and some residents seemed distant or tired. Perhaps after the lively art session, they were simply ready to nap — yet a few faces also carried a trace of sadness, as if the joy of connection had briefly slipped away. It was a moment that reminded me that growing old can be a lonely and frightening phase of life, one where you must search hard to find moments of happiness. This was my first time volunteering with elderly people, and it felt completely different from any experience I’d had before. Optimism feels limited in this environment; you can’t look ahead, and for some, even the past isn’t a place of comfort. You have to stay in the moment — to find meaning and joy in small exchanges, smiles, and shared creativity. Before we left, the manager gave each of us one of the tote bags we had decorated together. Mine still hangs in my room. It was a simple gift, but every time I see mine, I remember the face of the papou who made it — his gentle smile and nostalgic eyes. That morning, I realized how powerful art can be in bringing people together. Despite the distance in age and experience, creativity became a common language — a way to connect without needing words. From time to time, I still check Spitiko tis Agapis’ Instagram page to see if everyone is still there, and I can’t help but smile when I recognize familiar faces. Those memories remind me that even brief moments of kindness can leave a lasting mark — on them, and on me
Action Program 2: July 24, 2025
Volunteering at Assistance Dogs Greece
On July 24th, we visited Assistance Dogs Greece with six other kids, all eager to volunteer and help out. We didn’t really know what to expect — we just knew there would be puppies, and that sounded adorable. We imagined spending the morning cuddling them, maybe feeding them or taking a few photos for social media. What made me want to volunteer was how meaningful it sounded — helping dogs that would one day change lives. The thought that these puppies might grow up to guide people who are blind or comfort children with autism felt both inspiring and heartwarming.
When we arrived, though, the reality was completely different from what I imagined. The atmosphere was calm but full of responsibility. We met Bloom, the mother of twelve puppies — and she looked completely exhausted. The puppies were tiny and endlessly hungry, climbing over her, desperate to feed. Seeing her patience and fatigue made me realize how demanding motherhood is, even for a dog.
We were also asked to remove our shoes and socks before entering the small house to avoid bringing in any bacteria, since the puppies’ immune systems were fragile. The family who lived there had volunteered to foster Bloom and her litter — all twelve of them — in their own home, which had just two bedrooms and a living room. The space was spotless but clearly stretched to its limits. I remember thinking how selfless they were, giving up their comfort for the sake of these animals.
While we were cleaning, the breeder told us Bloom’s story. Her pregnancy had been extremely difficult — she’d lost a few puppies, and the birth nearly cost her life. It was so hard on her that she would never have puppies again. Hearing that made me look at her differently. She wasn’t just a tired dog; she was a survivor. Her remaining puppies were precious — each one with the potential to become a trained assistance dog, offering safety and comfort to someone who needed it most. We learned that only about 20% of the dogs who begin training actually become certified service dogs, which made their care feel even more important.
The breeder explained they were looking for families to temporarily foster the puppies because they simply didn’t have enough space. They gave us leaflets and asked us to post on social media to spread the word. It amazed me how much they relied on community support — donations, volunteers, and love — to keep everything running. One of the hardest yet most memorable parts of the day was building the outdoor playpen for the puppies. We were given tools and materials and told to construct it from scratch. It was one of the hottest days of the summer, and I had never done anything like that before. Usually, if I need something, I just order it online and it arrives ready to use. But this time, we had to do everything ourselves — sawing, hammering, pulling out rusty nails from old wooden boards. At first, it felt exhausting and even a little boring, but slowly something shifted. As we worked side by side — sweating, laughing, and figuring it out together — we started to see the playpen take shape. When it was finally done and we watched the puppies running around safely inside, everything made sense. All the effort, the heat, the blisters — it was worth it. Seeing them play freely, wagging their tails and exploring their new space, gave me this warm, quiet feeling of pride. By the end of the day, I was deeply moved. What inspired me most wasn’t just the dogs, but the people — the volunteers, the foster family, and the breeder — who poured their hearts into something bigger than themselves. They weren’t doing it for recognition; they did it out of love. I realized that real volunteering isn’t always cute or easy. It’s messy, tiring, and often uncomfortable. But it’s also incredibly meaningful. Helping these dogs felt like helping the children and adults whose lives they will someday change — giving hope, independence, and love in ways that words can barely describe. Since that day, I often check Assistance Dogs Greece’s Instagram page to see how Bloom’s puppies are doing. It makes me genuinely happy to see how much they’ve grown — many have already found foster families and begun their training to become service dogs. Every time I see a new post, I think of Bloom — the gentle, patient mother who started it all — and of the family and breeder who cared for her so lovingly during those first exhausting months. Their pride and dedication remind me what real compassion looks like, and how small acts of kindness can grow into something extraordinary. 💙
Action Program 3: July 27, 2025
Volunteering at Love Without Borders
In July 2025, I visited Love Without Borders in Athens with a small group of friends, some of us Greeks visiting from abroad, some others living locally. We walked into a bright, welcoming art gallery, greeted by Kayra Martinez, a flight attendant for United Airlines and the founder of the organization — all smiles and genuine energy. Ten children from the Middle East were there with their mothers. Ages ranged widely, from five to seventeen. We all sat in a circle and introduced ourselves, the awkwardness dissolving faster than I expected. Some of the kids spoke Greek, a few English. The younger ones stuck to their mother tongues, but it didn’t matter much; smiles bridged the gap.
What struck me first was how comfortable everyone seemed. Most of these families had spent over three years in refugee camps, “stuck” in Greece. They were all quick to laugh, share, and create with us. Most of the teenage girls were dressed in ways that reflected their heritage, a poignant reminder of how culture can follow you. The moms stayed together, speaking in languages I didn’t understand, but the way they moved in the space made it clear: this place was familiar, even comforting. They come here week after week to paint. It’s more than art — it’s connection, dignity, expression.
We all set up the painting station, and soon we were all immersed, creating side by side, passing brushes, cleaning spills, exchanging smiles, sharing pizza, and cleaning up together. There was no hierarchy, no “us” and “them” — just humans, with hands stained with paint. One girl carefully painted flowers in swirling golds and reds. I asked her what they meant, and she just pointed at her heart. No translation needed.
As we left, I was struck by how something so simple—a canvas and a safe space—could hold so much power.
As we wrapped up, I walked along the wall where the children’s paintings were displayed. I took a moment to examine the colorful canvases hung on the wall, each with a handwritten artist card beside it. Each canvas spoke louder than words, offering a glimpse into their lived experiences of displacement, hope, memory, and resilience. And this is when I realized that Art Heals. To all those refugee mothers and children, doing art at the Love Without Borders gallery has been a creative and emotional refuge, and a safe way for them to process trauma, reclaim dignity, heal, and express something that might otherwise stay buried. That day, I witnessed that the most profound bridges between cultures are built without words at all.
Action Program 4: July 27, 2025
Volunteering at Astiki Melissa
During the summer, I volunteered with beekeeper Nikos Chatzilias at Astiki Melissa, an urban beekeeping initiative based in Zografou, Athens. Since many workers and volunteers were away on vacation, Nikos truly needed an extra pair of hands—and I was glad to help.
Most of my time was spent cleaning and restoring hive materials. Using a hive tool and scrapers, I carefully removed old wax and propolis—a resinous mixture collected by bees—from the frames and the inside of the hive bodies.
Though it was messy, detailed work, I found it oddly satisfying. Every clean surface meant the bees would have a healthier space to continue their work.
Nikos shared fascinating insights about how urban bees adapt to the city environment and how their presence contributes to pollination and the health of Athens’s green spaces. The short introduction and photos he showed helped me understand the delicate balance of the beekeeping process—from caring for the hives to collecting honey. Each task, no matter how small, felt meaningful because it was part of a larger effort to protect urban pollinators and sustain local biodiversity.
I also took the opportunity to interview Nikos about his mission and the challenges of urban beekeeping in Athens. His insights inspired me to write an article for Kids Love Greece to raise awareness about the importance of pollinators and encourage others to volunteer. Volunteering with beekeeper Nikos Chatzilias at Astiki Melissa gave me a glimpse into the challenges and rewards of urban beekeeping in Athens. In a city where green space is shrinking and pollution threatens biodiversity, I saw how bees help keep local ecosystems alive—pollinating rooftop gardens, city parks, and wildflowers that might otherwise disappear. During my visit there, I helped clean hive frames, scrape old wax, and prepare materials—small but meaningful tasks that keep the hives healthy and ready for new colonies. Knowing that my work supported the pollinators that sustain life in the city made me feel connected to Athens in a new way. Later, as I wrote about the experience for Kids Love Greece, I realized that raising awareness can be just as important as the work itself. Standing among the hives, I was struck by how calm and purposeful everything felt. It reminded me that even in a bustling city like Athens, nature finds its place. I left Astiki Melissa with a deeper appreciation for sustainability, community-based environmental work, and the beauty of small, collective efforts that make a city thrive.
