The bigger they are the harder they fall.
I have oftentimes been reminded of that truism in life. I saw some guys cutting down a big tree about four months ago, and because it was big it really came down hard. But if I go out and check out the acorns squirrels buried last week I can easily pull the tiny trees up and throw them down and you can't hear a thing. The hardness of the fall is proportionate to the size of the tree.
Speaking of squirrels, the day I saw that big tree come down -- they were sawing at it for maybe 45 minutes -- just about as soon as it came down a squirrel who'd been in the top branches somewhere went scurrying for another tree. It was a little ironic that probably a squirrel had planted that tree 100 years before and a squirrel was the last thing out of it 100 years later. Or I could put it this way: A squirrel planted the tree 100 years before and was the direct cause of the discomfort of another squirrel 100 years later. That's really thinking ahead!
But as to the tree's hard fall -- it really came down! My dog Underbrush was in the car watching it with me and when it crashed she dove for the floor, that's how loud it was. But I can be out weed whacking these little acorn trees all day and she doesn't seem to notice -- she doesn't notice. So there is demonstrably some relation between the size of a thing, in this case a tree, and the hardness of its fall.
And that's the way it was in the story of David and Goliath. You've got David, barely a shrimp, and you've got Goliath, his head stretching toward the clouds. To him, he's invulnerable, that's what he thinks. He looks down on the children of Israel and they're like ants. As small as can be. And they look up at him. He's so big they can see him from a hundred miles away. As big as life. Standing there very imposing. Bigger than life. With size to spare. Busting out of his clothes. A real ladies' man.
Then there's David, barely discernible to the naked eye. So small you virtually need a microscope to isolate him. He couldn't beat a paramecium with a machine gun. He's overwhelmed by the breeze. A feather would bruise him. When he travels he hitches a ride on a dust mote. He'd fit through the eye of a needle four abreast. Women can barely tolerate his presence, he's so small. He keeps his pants on for shame.
But we know how the story turned out. David hoisted his tiny little slingshot, and with one well-aimed pebble -- smaller than a speck in your eye -- smacked Goliath in the forehead and left a gaping wound in him the size of a football field. The big man came down, as he must, and the reverberations are still registering on the Richter scale, 5,000 years later!
Welcome to the world of the Residential Industrial Movement, as we work day by day in the industrial field. The major industrial powers think they're big enough to withstand us, but look again. We're coming on strong in the manufacturing sectors. We're coming on strong in our stocks of raw materials. Everyday we're opening up new markets, putting down our own railroads, communications networks, towers, smokestacks, and driveways. We're stringing lights on our factories, lighting the way for our trucks, and they're blinking through the night, signaling which loading dock they should use.
It's a beautiful sight ... and Goliath won't know what hit him.
In short, Industrial Goliath has more than met his match. Industrial David shall prevail!