Notes to Self...and whoever's listening

Her name is Janice.  Who? The homeless woman who lives in the alley across the street from my work. She has a cart and a small suitcase always by her side. She always sleeps sitting up - at least anytime I see her. I've taken her a bag of water and some snacks once. I pray for her a lot. Until yesterday, I'd only spoken to her once - the time I dropped off the water and snacks. I told her my name and asked her hers. She spoke it quietly, barely above a whisper.  Yesterday I saw her standing at the end of the alley rather than sleeping in the back of it. I dug through my purse and pulled out two fives. I unrolled my window and drove up to her at the alley. I called her name to get her to come to me. Her head shot up and she just stared at me. She seemed shocked to be called that or that I remembered her. Then she came to me and we talked and I handed her the money. A few seconds after she left my car, I heard the manager of another local business call her by her name and ask ho...