abukspan

This relates to what you wrote.

Encircled With Love:
ויסב אלקים את העם דרך המדבר ים סוף
G-d led the people roundabout, by way of the wilderness at the Sea of Reeds (Shemos 13:18).
The Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 20:18) says that we can learn a halachah from the word “Vayaseiv – And He led roundabout.” At the Seder, even a poor person is required to eat in a reclining position. The word for reclining, heseibah, has the same shoresh as vayaseiv: י.ס.ב.
While the letters are the same, the similarity seems to end there. י.ס.ב. in our context means roundabout (as in a dreidel, a סביבון), while in hilchos Pesach it means to recline. Additionally, where do we see anything pertaining to a pauper in our pasuk?
It says in the previous pasuk (13:17), that Hashem did not lead the Bnei Yisrael by way of the land of the Pelishtim, so the Jews would not be afraid when they see a war and want to return to Egypt. My father (see also Ke’Motzei Shalal Rav, which cites the Chasam Sofer; and Bircas Yitzchak) explained that the reason for vayaseiv, for the circuitous route, was in order to avoid the civilized and even inhabited lands. The Al-mighty wanted us to learn and become accustomed to the true value of a Jew. Rather than becoming preoccupied with amassing material wealth, a person should be involved in more ethereal and lofty goals. For a Jew, success means having a close relationship with Hashem and leading a life committed to the Torah and its precepts. In fact, the very nature of real freedom is dependent on this, as the Mishnah in Avos (6:2) tells us: “Ein lecha ben chorin ella mi she’oseik be’salmud Torah – There is no free man but the one who engages in the study of Torah.”
When the Jews left Egypt, they were free from the bondage of slavery, but they needed to be freed from the bondage of self – and not remain caught up in pursuing pleasure. Only after living 40 years in the proving grounds of the desert, with no physical pleasures, were they able to enter Eretz Yisrael and live a life based on agriculture and commerce. During the time spent in the desert, the Jews learned the importance of limiting one’s preoccupation with financial gain, and the need to focus one’s energies on moral and spiritual excellence.
In a comparable vein, the Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 20:15) explains that the Jews were not yet trained in mitzvos, specifically those pertaining to Eretz Yisrael. For this reason, Hashem said that He would first give them the Torah and then bring them into the Land.
We now understand the correlation between our pasuk and the halachah that even a poor person must recline. When one learns this lesson – that a person’s freedom and true worth are dependent on his ability to serve Hashem and study his Torah – then even the most downtrodden among us have cause to celebrate, for they recognize their value as part of a holy nation; their nobility is not determined by dollars and cents, but in Torah and mitzvos.
The poor person who reclines like royalty on Pesach is a testament to this value. A Jew, notwithstanding his circumstances, is a royal and deserves to act and be treated as one. Hashem took us out of Egypt in a roundabout manner to teach us that even nomads living in a desert can receive the Torah and be deemed holy by Hashem. And halachah demands that we acknowledge our nobility by reclining at the Seder.
Perhaps, based on this, the mindset of the obligation to provide for the poor person should not be: “Oy, a poor fellow. He’s so needy,” but “Ah, a fellow royal. He deserves nothing less than I!”
Thus far, we’ve understood the word vayaseiv as describing the route we had traveled, under Hashem’s directive. The first part of the above Midrash, however, explains the word in a different manner: that Hashem surrounded us when we left Egypt. The Eitz Yosef on the Midrash explains that He surrounded us with the Ananei HaKavod, Clouds of Glory.
This, again, begs the question: What does being surrounded by heavenly clouds have to do with a mendicant man leaning at the Seder?
Rav Bentzion Feinhandler, in his sefer Gei Chazon, explains that the Ananei HaKavod were so named because they brought kavod, honor, and pride to those sheltered within. Beyond the protection they afforded, they were a display of Hashem’s love toward us. Unlike the Manna and the Well, this was one ongoing miracle that was unnecessary. He took us into a desert; He had to provide us with the essentials. But providing us with an air-conditioned environment was going above and beyond the call of even His duty. So, more than a safeguard or shelter, the Clouds were a sign of His special relationship with us.
This is one way to explain why we have the holiday of Succos to commemorate the Clouds, but no corresponding holiday to commemorate the Manna or Well. Hashem must provide the necessities of life, as Middas HaDin would dictate. The Clouds, however, were a welcome but unneeded bonus, a true sign of His love and a manifestation of His Middas HaChesed.
We are special; look how He treated us! Everyone, even those without riches or rank, was afforded the glory and pride the Clouds conveyed.
Thus, at the Seder, we celebrate this singular honor by acting as royalty and reclining like kings. This is in remembrance of the kavod and regard that Hashem displayed for us when He took us out of Egypt.
We can do no less.

thank you

I actually have a word doc with 23 pretty good Pesach verter that are mostly unknown. . I also have a pdf of a Feldheim sefer I wrote that I would be happy to send you. I know we cannot give email addresses to one another. In the meantime I did post 2 or 3 other verter under aviaviavi. If you google my sefer, classics and beyond you may figure out how to connect. I hope I am not doing anything in violation of the rules. Stay safe z d look for those verter

Meaningful Hesber on an alternative reason for the 4 Cups

The Cup of Redemption:
וכוס פרעה בידי… ואשחט אותם אל כוס פרעה ואתן את הכוס על כף פרעה… ונתת כוס פרעה בידו
The cup of Pharaoh is in my hand… I squeezed them into the cup of Pharaoh, and I gave the cup on the hand of Pharaoh… and you shall give the cup in Pharaoh’s hand (Bereishis 40:11-13).
When the cupbearer of Pharaoh told his dream to Yosef and when Yosef interpreted it, the word cup appears in the verses four times. We are told (Shemos Rabbah 6:4, Yerushalmi Pesachim 10:1) that the four cups at our Pesach Seder correspond to the arba leshonos shel geulah, the four terms of redemption, which are mentioned in the Torah (Shemos 6:6-7). They are: “Ve’hotzeisi – I will take you out” of Egypt; “ve’hitzalti – I will rescue you” from servitude; “ve’ga’alti – I will redeem you;” and “ve’lakachti – I will take you” as My people.
The Yerushalmi (ibid.) says that another reason for the four cups is the four times that the cup of Pharaoh is mentioned in the above verses. What message were Chazal trying to convey in this association? What lesson can we learn from the cup-bearer’s dream and those four cups of Pharaoh, when we drink our four cups of wine at the Pesach Seder?
Rav Eliyahu Klatzkin, in Chibas HaKodesh (Cheilek HaDerush #1), offers a beautiful explanation of this Yerushalmi, which takes into account the actual context of the four cups of Pharaoh – namely, the dreams and ambitions of an imprisoned man, the sar hamashkim.
What was it that led Yosef to give a favorable interpretation to the cup-bearer, and a moment later to give a dismal interpretation to the baker? This question takes on great significance in light of the Gemara (Berachos 55b), which states that a dream follows its interpretation, and is often a reflection of what the dreamer thought about during the day. Although the Gemara says that the interpretation must be similar to the dream, why was Yosef unable to find something within the dream of the sar ha’ofim that could be interpreted favorably, as he did for the cup-bearer?
As we read the cup-bearer’s rendition of his dream, we note the repeated emphasis of the cup of Pharaoh, which indicates a person longing and even obsessed to return to his former post. The cup-bearer had obviously taken pride in serving Pharaoh before, and hoped to be given the chance to return to his job. Thus, when Yosef listened to the dream, he gave a positive interpretation. Since the cup-bearer was a person who only wanted to serve his master, any offense he may have committed (in which a fly was found in the cup of Pharaoh) was no doubt inadvertent, and he deserved another chance.
In the dream of the baker, however, there is no indication that he longed to return to serve Pharaoh. He never mentioned or described himself as baking for or serving his master, only that there was a basket of Pharaoh’s bread above his head. In fact, he should have carried the bread in his hand, where it would have been safer from birds. Signs of loyalty or devotion to his master were starkly absent from the dream. It seems he never cared about the royal personage he served; he only wanted the job so that he could fill his stomach with royal fare. The offense, in which a stone was found in the bread of Pharaoh, was a true offense to Pharaoh. According to the letter of the law, he deserved to be punished for his wrongdoing. Yosef could not find any redeeming factor in the dream to enable him to interpret it favorably. Therefore, Yosef delivered the interpretation that the baker would be killed and would never return to his position.
This, writes Rav Klatzkin, is why Chazal mandated four cups at the Seder, corresponding to the four cups of Pharaoh. When we drink our wine and reflect on our liberation from Egypt, we should have in mind something akin to the longings and ambitions of the cup-bearer. He only wanted to be freed in order to return to serve his master and to continue to show his devotion to the king. In the same vein, when thanking Hashem for deliverance from Egypt, we should also recall the true purpose of freedom.
Whatever pit we find ourselves in, our longing and prayer for redemption should be only to serve Hashem. Our ambition must be to keep His Torah and mitzvos and bask in His radiance, not the personal pleasure or physical perks that come with geulah and freedom.
And just as the longing to serve was the catalyst for the cup-bearer’s freedom, so, too, our desire and longing to serve Hashem will be the merit that frees us from our pits, and allows us to go from darkness into light.

thank you! you are correct.

ab