Manna, pronounced MAN-uh, drifts into the ear like a hushed offering, its very syllables conjuring the hush of dawn mist in a bamboo grove. Born of ancient Hebrew lore—the miraculous bread that fell from the heavens to sustain weary travelers—and echoed in Sanskrit as a “blessed gift,” this name is at once grounded in survival and uplifted by the promise of grace. In the cool stillness of a Japanese tea garden, Manna might settle on a stone lantern like dew, its presence both unassuming and quietly transformative. Though its appearance among American newborns hovers modestly around the nine-hundredth rank, each child who bears it seems to carry a provenance richer than most grocery shelves can supply. There is a subtle, dry humor in bestowing a name that once puzzled wandering souls—“What is it?”—only to reveal itself as life’s most unexpected nourishment.
| Manna Dey - |