Maria, meantime, was still standing in her serenity cloud, which was moving around with her. She had found her groove, and knew that she was walking in the good works that God had prepared in advance for her to do. Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingernails, which are a classy crimson, to fight. (For the Barancho family, fingernail polish, and things like it, were the only area where fundamentalism had lost to the Italian heritage argument.)