An exemplary Athonite coenobiarch, the offspring of a very pious large family from Pyrgos of Elis, was Andreas Protogeropoulos in the world. Reading the lives of the saints turned him towards monasticism. The needs and adventures did not diminish his courage for his monastic dedication. On 15.8.1891, the feast day of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, eighteen-year-old Andreas arrived at the monastery of Gregory. He immediately reverently embraced the soil of the Perivolio of the Virgin Mary.
The monastery becomes his mother. The virtuous abbot of the monastery, Symeon (+1905), becomes his spiritual father. An obedient minister, a willing novice, silent, attentive, philotomi, tireless. His great comfort was the Catholic, the Elder, his little cell. After his tonsure in 1893, he took on the role of a lodger in Karyes for a decade. The representative, Iakovos, with his apparent severity towards the novice Athanasios tested him for the heights. Study was pleasant and his constant companion, prayer similarly.
Returning from Karyes to the monastery, he was ordained, without ever asking for it, as a deacon, in 1904. His new ministry was that of the archontarius. After four years, he was ordained a priest by the former Nilos of Kasos and Karpathos (+1917). Humility, prudence, patience, gentleness distinguished and characterized him. He passed through the ministries of the metochiaris, the librarian, the offerer and others.
He was elected abbot of his monastery in 1924, after having been promoted to archimandrite and spiritual leader. As abbot, he strove to inspire his monks by his example more than by his word. He was a loving and discreet father, hardworking, honorable, filial, and brotherly. The Gregory Monastery could boast of its abbot. The abbotship is not always glory and honor, but also a cross of martyrdom. He endured unperturbed, prayerfully, and hopefully. After thirteen years as abbot, he had no difficulty at all in resigning it in order to rest. Always unenthusiastic, always approachable, always sober. He preferred peace rather than controversy, silence rather than verbosity, resignation and tolerance rather than stubbornness and intransigence. His great wealth was his landlessness, his money the words of his fathers, his glory was his humility.
During the period of his abbacy, Fr. Athanasius was confronted many times with various problems and difficulties. In his first years he was worn out by the calendar question. He had no desire to align the Monastery with something that was being imposed on them by the modernist spirit. His stand was reminiscent of the Studite Monks: “We must,” he said, "remain unshaken pillars of the ancient traditions of our Fathers and appear as brave soldiers of Christ, and not say, ‘The Bishops and the Patriarchs tell us!’ What does the Apostle Paul, the mouth of Christ, tell us? ‘Even if angels descend from heaven and preach another Gospel, do not listen to them.’ (cf. Galatians 1:8) During his abbacy he had carefully observed the principles established for the Monastery by former abbots. He believed that the more closely we imitate the Fathers in their way of life, the more we will be able to attain their successful end. One deviation from tradition, especially without serious reason, can lead to a second. The second easily accepts a third, and the evil continues…
His successor, Abbot Bessarion (+1974), said of him: “His soul was an unsinkable harbor. He resembled the ascetic figures of ancient Thebaid. He loved the spirit of temperance and gentleness excessively. He always taught this to his subordinates in various ways, even writing poems.”
This sweet, insatiable, undemanding, peaceful monk commanded only respect. A devout minister. He was an unquenchable candle, as he said a good priest should be. A hidden worker of virtue, with a deep sense of his unworthiness. His cell was his most beloved place after the holy altar. There he continued a different kind of divine Liturgy. He began daily journeys to heaven with the rosary. Anticipating a future illness, he had made a three-year "rule". How could the Lord, the giver of light, not bend over him?
The hand of the icon of the Virgin Mary in his cell and the foot of Christ were "marked" and "eaten" by his many kisses. Signs of love of a true Mount Athos, where he had them, Christ and the Virgin Mary, the center of his life. How could the Lady of Angels not bend down and not visit him in the temple? The medicine for his illnesses was Holy Communion. His last words, on 28.12.1953, "why are you crying, my children?", show the greatness of a soul with great love. He had overcome the fear of death, not believing in his own works but hoping in the mercy of the All-Good God and in the powerful intercessions of the friend of the Theotokos and the friends of God, Saints Nicholas of Myra, Gregory the Founder, and Anastasia of Rome, the protectors of his beloved monastery.