Nesim means “miracles” in Hebrew. Clearly, the survival of almost any Polish Jew, during the most determined genocide mankind had ever witnessed, is nothing short of miraculous. Yet few would consider being arrested, sent to a Russian concentration camp for seven years, or having to flee one’s country, as miracles one has to be grateful for. And yet, when telling the incredible events of his life, David Mitzner often repeats: “All around me there were nesim”. As he looks back, he chooses not to view events through the only too justified bitterness and despair, which linger on just below the surface. What he sees are miracles, bestowed on a simple man by a mysteriously merciful God.