I love sharing stories. It is cathartic for me to pour my thoughts and heart out in words. There are many stories that I hesitate to share because they just seem so self-serving. My intent is never to seek praise, but just to let words flow to help me better understand my experiences. However, some experiences are persistent and permeate my thoughts when I try to sleep at night until I commit them to writing. I think about all the writings and the sharing of experiences of others who made me who I am today. Thus, I will continue to publicly write and share, and in all honesty, sometimes I will read something from years ago which had already left my memory until rekindled by reading my own words. Not every encounter of mine is as rewarding but all have lessons. The other afternoon, I was walking down King Street and noticed a disheveled middle-aged Korean woman pulling things out of her shopping cart and then sitting down talking to herself on the sidewalk. I surreptitiously pu...