One in every four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime.

When I first came across this fact, I couldn’t grasp the immensity of it. I was aware of domestic violence, but I hadn’t realized it is so prevalent. Domestic violence, I learned, is far from rare; it may affect my family, friends, teachers, neighbors, or even me.

For about two years, I have been volunteering at an incredible nonprofit organization that helps and houses domestic violence victims. Shelters help women get back on their feet and give them a place to live while they figure out their next job and house; shelter staff take care of the children with childcare, activities, and tutoring.

After just one visit, I knew I wanted to return. Everyone there made me feel comfortable, like part of their community. I became engrossed in this cause and organized a project to raise money for a new boutique at the shelter. I was invited to speak at the check-giving ceremony, received the Volunteer Award on behalf of my school club, helped paint the boutique, and attended its opening ceremony.

Summer approached, and I knew I wanted to spend more time with the kids at the shelter, so I volunteered to be a camp counselor. It was exhausting chasing the kids around and constantly keeping an eye on them during field trips, but I loved every second of each nine-hour work day. The campers’ high energy and smiles were absolutely contagious.

As the days passed, the kids slowly opened up to me. They shared stories about their families. They told me their favorite songs, movies, and games. They ran to me when they needed to cry. They asked me to hold their hands when crossing busy streets. They hugged me each day as though they hadn’t seen me in years, exclaiming, “Where have you been? I missed you!”

It’s hard listening to them without tearing up. Once, on a subway ride to a field trip, my buddy for the day – a chatterbox – was talking about dinosaurs. When he suddenly went silent, I followed his big brown eyes across the train car to a father and son who looked like they were having the best time. The young son was climbing all over his exhausted, red-faced dad, who was grinning and playing along. I smiled at them, but when I looked back at my buddy, I saw pain in his eyes. He said, “I have a dad too,” then became silent again. I tried to cheer him up, but that was a moment I will never forget. This four-year-old had more emotional scars than I could fathom. This memory makes me want to do everything I can to help these kids.

On a happier note, when we were on the train for another field trip, a stranger looked over at us and commented, “The kids love you! You’re doing a great job.” This was one of the best compliments I have ever received. It means so much to me that the kids enjoy spending time with me.

I have met amazing staff, children, and mothers at the shelter. They inspire me to continue working with these critically important organizations. The shelters’ mission motivates me. I’ve discovered a cause that I will dedicate my time and effort to for the rest of my life.