An Unexpected Path to Generosity

We do not choose our parents, nor do we choose the families into which we are born. As I listen to Ilona Bata, I realize that I won the lottery at birth. She, tragically, won nothing.

My parents were not perfect – no parents are – but I always knew that they loved me deeply and wanted me to become a good person. From them, I learned to be honest and truthful, hardworking and responsible, caring and generous – all values that I gained not just from what they said but from how they lived. Yes, when it comes to parents, I won the lottery.

Ilona's parents were alcoholics. Early on, her biological father disappeared, and the stepfather who replaced him was abusive. He would beat Ilona and her sister until they were raw and bruised. Along with the beatings, he would shout, "You're just no good! You'll never amount to anything!" His words left even deeper scars. Meanwhile, the alcohol he supplied his kids ensured that they would follow his self-destructive path.

By age fifteen, Ilona was pregnant and gave birth to a daughter that she signed away for adoption. Then, by age sixteen, she decided she could manage independently and left the custody of the Children's Aid Society. At first, it was just alcohol and pills, then crack cocaine – and prostitution to support her addictions. Her path went relentlessly downwards.

As I listen to Ilona's story, I can't help but wonder: What if, during those crucial preschool years, some generous neighbour or auntie had paid attention to the little girl – had talked with her, read to her, nurtured her? Or what if, during her elementary school years, a caring teacher or youth worker had helped Ilona gain the confidence to go on learning? Or what if, during her high school years, a kind and wise guidance counsellor had encouraged her to seek a better path? But no one did.

Not until she was in her forties did anyone reach out – and at that point, it was the Salvation Army. They got her into their rehab program. "It took me four tries," she says ruefully. "But I finally realized that I would die if I didn't change – and I wanted to live."

During these years in and out of rehab, Ilona completed her high school certificate. "I did well," she tells me, "though I still don't see any need for algebra."

Also, at this stage in her life, Ilona's mental illness was finally diagnosed. In hindsight, she thinks that she has always struggled with bipolar disorder and that "self-medication" played a significant role in her addictions. Once her problems were recognized, Ilona could benefit from proper medication and new coping skills.

Although education and health care contributed, what seems to have genuinely empowered Ilona to turn her life around was the gift of a family. When I ask about her birth family, I discover she no longer has contact with them. Instead, she tells how one Mother's Day after a Salvation Army service, she was in tears over her lack of a mother. Then, from across the auditorium, an elderly couple came to comfort her. They promised to be her family – and so, for some years, she called them Mom and Dad. Now that they have died, Ilona tells me, "The Salvation Army is my family."

For the past eleven years, Ilona has been free from alcohol and street drugs. For those of us who have never had to struggle with addictions, we can only imagine the strength, courage, and sheer grit that this journey has required and continues to require. She is one of our unacknowledged heroes.

Now that she is on a better path, Ilona serves her community. As the elected representative for her 220 Oak Street building, she takes resident issues to the housing authority. Ilona has successfully pushed for much-needed new elevators, cameras in hallways, and other improvements. She also helps prepare an ongoing Friday breakfast for the building's residents and occasional summer barbecues. 

But it is more than just what Ilona does; it is the warm and inclusive person she is. At the Salvation Army, she volunteers as a "welcomer." And when she comes to community meetings, she greets us all with big hugs.

To conclude our interview, I ask Ilona what motivates her to serve her community. Her response is immediate: "I want others to have a better life than me." I can scarcely believe my ears. All those years when no one reached out to her, yet now, she reaches out to others. That her path now leads into this abundant world of generosity leaves me both humbled and inspired.