From a young age, I had a reverence for the Church, which my father surprisingly accepted and respected, even though he was not at all religious. He allowed me to engage in divine worship. Although my other siblings were sent to do the necessary agricultural work even on Sundays, I was allowed to go to church and help with the chanting. In order to learn Byzantine music, which I loved very much, I had his permission to go a few nights a week to Lefkoniko, where the gymnasium was, five kilometers away from my village, which was dangerous at that time for a sixteen-year-old.

My mother, grandmother, and aunts had a particular devotion to God. This undoubtedly influenced me as well. The priest of my village was simple, unpretentious, with love and functionality, seriousness, and a careful life. He showed a lot of love towards me, and later he even promoted me to the Seminary. I was hesitant at the thought of the priesthood, contemplating both its magnitude and my unworthiness. However, once, when I finished my Byzantine music lesson, the teacher said to me: "Why don't you come so we can make you a deacon here at Lefkoniko, where we need a deacon?" As soon as he said this, a fire ignited in my heart to serve the Church of Christ. But how could I tell my father? However, if something is from God, it happens, no matter how difficult or logically impossible it may seem. My aunt, to whom I revealed my secret, told my father, and to our surprise, he said: "These studies require money, but let him go."