The early morning procession of the flags, where members of the Mothers’ Union carry the standard for the MU branch at their parish through the streets of the host locale, has taken place, as has the closing communion. Chairs in the meeting hall have been stacked, posters removed from the walls, the hiccuping microphone unplugged (the large cow bell which was also rung to get the attention of conference goers worked as well as anything else anyway), and meeting supplies put back into boxes. Buses carrying the women who live in the northern part of Botswana have already departed the Kalahari Desert; they have the longest journey. Those who have yet to leave are offered generous portions of leftover beef stew or goat meat or chicken and rice. Officers of the Mothers’ Union in the Anglican Diocese of Botswana have met for an evaluation of the annual gathering, and they’ve also visited local MU members laid-up in the hospital in Tsabong. One last task remains: Sorting through and delivering personal hygiene items intended for those incarcerated in an area prison. Wasn’t it Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say”?