Noach’s teivah was large. It was 300 amos long, 50 amos wide, and 30 amos high. It needed to be large to

contain all the animals.

Nevertheless, the Ramban (Bereishis 6:19) says that it was still a miracle that it held all the animals. He writes, “There are many species of wild animals. Some of them are very large, like the elephants… And also, there are endless small animals. There are so many of them! And there are endless species of birds… Noach had to bring all of these into the teivah, and he also had to bring their foods into the teivah… The teivah certainly wasn’t large enough. Even ten teivos of these dimensions wouldn’t be large enough! It was a miracle. A small area held so much.”

The Ramban asks that since Hashem performed a miracle anyway, Hashem could have told Noach to build an even smaller teivah, and there would be room for everything it needed to carry. So why did Hashem tell Noach to make a teivah with large dimensions?

The Ramban’s second answer is as follows:

“[Hashem wanted] the teivah to be large so the miracle shouldn’t be so obvious. And this is how it is with all the miracles recorded in the Torah and navi.”

This is a principle in how Hashem performs miracles. It is Hashem’s will to minimize miracles so that they won’t be as noticeable.

But the miracles of
yetzias Mitzrayim
are an exception to
this rule. At this time,
Hashem wanted to
increase the miracles,
as it states (Shemos:
11:9), “Hashem said
to Moshe, ‘Pharaoh
won’t listen to you
so that my miracles
will multiply in
Mitzrayim.’” Hashem
desired to do many miracles at yetzias Mitzrayim.

There were ten makos in Mitzrayim and many more at the Yam Suf, although, technically, one miracle would have been sufficient. Why did Hashem perform so many miracles? Why didn’t Hashem minimize the miracles, as He usually does?

The Dubno Magid zt’l answers with an

analogy of a baker. A baker places one or two of his breads and cakes in the store window, so people passing by will be tempted to come inside and buy. He also has many cakes and breads on the shelves to sell.

The goods in the store window serve a different purpose than the baked goods on the shelves. The baked goods in the window draw people into the store; therefore, they need to appear beautiful and don’t necessarily have to taste so good. On the other hand, the baked goods on the shelves are for eating. Therefore, they can

be less attractive, but they must taste good.

So, we see that the purpose determines the criteria.

The Dubno Magid explains that miracles can also be for one of two purposes.

Most miracles are to save the world or to save the Jewish nation. For example, the Purim miracle was to save the Jewish nation from Haman’s decree. The miracle of the teivah was to save Noach, his family, and the other creatures from

the flood.

The miracles of yetzias Mitzrayim, however, weren’t only to save the Jewish nation. The purpose was to reveal to the Jewish nation that there is Hashem, as it states (Shemos 6:6-7), “I will take you out of your affliction in Mitzrayim…so that you will know that I am Hashem your G-d.”

When the purpose is salvation, Hashem chooses to minimize the miracles. When the purpose of the miracles is to reveal Hashem’s presence in the world, Hashem prefers to do many great miracles. Each miracle taught us some more that Hashem created the world and leads it with hashgachah pratis.

The Pri HaAretz (beginning of parashas Bo) adds that this explains why Hashem hardened Pharaoh’s heart. If the goal was to free the nation from Mitzrayim, there is no reason to harden Pharaoh’s heart. But when the purpose is Lemaan Tisaper Shemi B’chol Haeretz, so the entire world will know about Hashem, it was necessary to harden Pharaoh’s heart, so more miracles could take place.

We now understand that there is a special significance to telling the story of yetzias Mitzrayim at the Seder.

When we do so,
we are completing
the purpose for
which the miracles
were intended. The
miracles weren’t
solely to free us.
Primarily, they were
so we can tell our children the miracles that Hashem performed for us.

At the Seder, the father wears a kittel, which represents tachrichim, shrouds. The Chasan Sofer zt’l explains that we want the father to remember that he won’t live forever. There will be a time when he will be dressed in tachrichim and buried in the ground, and then he won’t be able to tell his family about yetzias Mitzrayim. This realization will inspire him to take advantage of the night, to tell his children about yetzias Mitzrayim, and to implant in them emunah in Hashem.

Rebbe Shmelke of Nickelsburg zt’l said that the kittel is to help the father imagine that he had already passed away, and in honor of the Seder night, heaven let him return to earth to make the Seder so that he can teach emunah to his children. With this thought in mind, he will certainly perform the mitzvah of sipur yetzias Mitzrayim properly.

There is an ideal of concealing one’s good deeds from others. No one other than Hashem needs to know all the good things one does. This is because it is easier to do good deeds l’shem Shamayim when no one knows about it. But like every rule, there are exceptions. Rebbe Meir of Dzikev zy’a (Imrei No’am) says that parents shouldn’t conceal their good deeds from their children, so they can learn to emulate their ways.

This is indicated in the pasuk (Tehillim 31:20), most of your good deeds, you should conceal. But, for those who rely on you – your children, perform your good deeds in front of them so that they can learn from you.

On the words V’Higadita Lebincha, Onkelus writes, “Show your children.” Because on this night, parents should show their good deeds to their children so that they can learn from them.

When the head of the family breaks the middle matzah for yachatz, the larger half of the matzah is wrapped and concealed, and the smaller half is left on the table. This hints that people should conceal most of their good deeds.

But then the children search for the afikoman. They find the larger half that was concealed. Because on the Seder night, we want the children to see our concealed good deeds so that they can learn from their parents.