The Mekhilta DeRabbi Yishmael preserves two interpretations of the manna's name, both attributed to tannaitic authorities, and both reveal how the rabbis found layers of meaning in a single word.
Rabbi Eliezer connects the manna to the word "haggadah (non-legal rabbinic narrative)," derived from the root "gad," and says it was like something that "pulls" a person's heart. The manna was not merely food. It was a form of divine storytelling, an edible narrative that drew the hearts of the Israelites toward God. Every morning when they gathered it from the desert floor, they were not just collecting breakfast. They were being pulled closer to their Creator through an act of daily dependence.
The second interpretation, attributed simply to "Others," takes the same root in a different direction. The word "maggid," also from "gad," means "to testify" or "to declare." The manna, they said, testified about itself. It announced its own miraculous nature through its behavior. How? Because it never fell on Shabbat (the Sabbath), on festivals, or on Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement). The manna's own pattern of appearance and absence served as proof that it was not a natural phenomenon. No ordinary food source respects the Jewish calendar. No earthly substance takes holidays off.
These two readings complement each other beautifully. Rabbi Eliezer focuses on what the manna did to the people: it pulled their hearts. The "Others" focus on what the manna did to declare its own nature: it testified. Together, they paint a picture of a substance that was simultaneously sustenance and revelation, feeding the body while teaching the soul. The manna did not just keep Israel alive in the wilderness. It taught them, every single day, that their survival depended entirely on God.