Upon Her Table...

Around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I gaze out my bedroom windows.  Just across the gardens, I notice this woman sitting at her table just a few floors up in the next building.  Often, with a cup of tea in her hand, she sits, gazing down at something upon her table.   She is such a mystery to me and, although I am so curious as to what holds her attention, I am moved to pray for her.  An hour later, when she is no longer there, I peer at the empty chair left on the balcony.  What fills her thoughts, her attention, her heart?  And why am I so motivated to pray?