Though married for many years, Jeffrey and Rachel remained childless, and were quickly losing hope of ever raising a family. They had tried medicines and prayers-to no avail. They began avoiding the market as much as possible, because they couldn't bear their friends' looks of pity. It was difficult to see others carrying babies and holding hands with toddlers, and they could not endure the penetrating, sad eyes of neighbors that silently asked, "When?"

But the Pesach holiday demanded their attention, and the two set to work making the necessary preparations, even venturing into the market to purchase food for the holiday. So busy were they, in fact, that they forgot about their melancholy state until the night of the Seder, when they read about the Exodus in their Haggadot. That was when Rachel began to cry.

"God answered the prayers of our people by bringing them out of Egypt," she sobbed, "so why doesn't God answer our prayers for a child?"

"Do not weep," Jeffrey consoled her. "God will hear our prayers. God will give us a child."

At that moment, they heard a knock, and when they ran to open the door, they saw a weary, bearded traveler. Jeffrey immediately invited the stranger to join their Seder, and the visitor readily accepted. Rachel dried her tears and set another place at the table, grateful for the opportunity to welcome a guest to their home. Together, the three recited the Haggadah and dined on the scrumptious food prepared for the holiday.

When they completed the Seder, the stranger rose to leave. "I ask God that I may be able to visit you at the Seder next year," he said, "and that your table will be filled with ee-seder (disorder) at that time."

Jeffrey and Rachel were horrified. Surely, this was no way to thank them for their hospitality! But before they could recover from this strange statement, the visitor was gone.

Soon after the holiday, Rachel was overjoyed to discover that she was expecting a baby. Three months before Pesach, their child was born, and the couple rejoiced. When the holiday arrived, Jeffrey and Rachel once again sat down to conduct the Seder, but this time they held a squirming, squealing baby on their laps, who grabbed the Haggadah pages and threw silverware to the floor. Jeffrey and Rachel laughed at their child's antics, and were delighted to see the disorder at their Seder.

That was when they again heard a knock at the door, and greeted the very same traveler who had visited them the year before. But suddenly, they remembered his words, and the couple began talking at once.

"You gave us a blessing!" cried Rachel. "After all these years, we finally have a child!"

"How can we ever thank you?" Jeffrey asked. "And how can you ever forgive us? We should have thanked you for your kind words a year ago!"

"There is no need to ask my forgiveness," replied the traveler. "You could not have understood my words at the time. May you be worthy to bring your child to a life of Torah, to marriage, and to do good deeds."

And with those words, the stranger disappeared. Only then did Jeffrey and Rachel realize that he had actually been Elijah the Prophet in disguise, who had visited them on Pesach to offer them his blessing.

Adapted from the story "A Blessing in Disguise" Retold by Peninnah Schram in her book Tales of Elijah the Prophet (Jason Aronson, an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield).

The Fifth Cup
We drink four cups of wine at the Seder, but our sages speak of a fifth: the cup of Elijah, poured toward the end of the Seder and left for the  prophet. The cups, note the commentaries, represent four expressions of redemption that God promises to Moshe (Shemot 6:6-8):

1. v’hotzaytee—and I will take you out
2. v’hitzaltee—and I will save you
3. v’ga’altee—and I will redeem you
4. v’lakahtee—and I will take you to Me as a people.

Elijah’s cup represents the fifth promise: v’hevaytee—and I will bring you to the land.

This promise, which hints to a time when the entire Jewish people will gather together in Israel, has yet to be fulfilled; therefore, we leave the cup untouched. For now, the cup is reserved for the prophet Elijah, who will herald the Messianic age.

Although we don’t drink the fifth cup, it refocuses the Seder on what’s yet to come: By relating the Exodus from Egypt, we remember our past redemption. By speaking of Elijah the Prophet, we look towards our ultimate redemption in the future.