Rabbi Eliezer described one of the most vivid and beautiful scenes in all of rabbinic literature: the step-by-step process by which the manna descended from heaven each morning. Before a single flake of manna appeared, God orchestrated an elaborate preparation of the desert floor.
First, a north wind would come and sweep the desert clean, blowing away sand, dust, and debris. Then rain would fall and wash the ground, leaving it spotless. Next, dew would rise from the earth, and the wind would blow across it, shaping the moisture into surfaces that gleamed like golden tables. Only then, on this pristine, luminous surface, did the manna descend from heaven.
The image is breathtaking. Each morning, God essentially set a golden table in the wilderness before serving His people their daily bread. The manna did not fall onto bare dirt or rough sand. It landed on a divinely prepared surface, as though heaven itself was laying out a banquet setting before the meal arrived.
Rabbi Eliezer mentioned this in connection with the quail. The birds were piled two cubits above the ground, and Israel took them from the top layer. But while the quail was simply stacked on the earth, the manna received royal treatment. The contrast reinforces what the Mekhilta teaches elsewhere: the manna was given with a radiant countenance, lovingly and generously, while the quail was given grudgingly. The golden tables were proof of God's delight in feeding His people. When Israel ate the manna off those gleaming surfaces, they responded with praise, recognizing the extraordinary care behind every bite.