Some of them beat. Others are beaten.

(Courtesy of Amudim) A young, innocent heart beats. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

And then it stops beating.

It can stop beating for many reasons. Trauma. Overdose. Depression. Alcohol. Abuse. Suicide.

Too much can overwhelm a heart. Too little can starve a heart.

A heart, a shattered heart, could stop beating even while its young owner yet walks, yet talks, yet breathes. The person technically lives, but the dignified human being is no longer alive.

The human is no longer being.

Mind you, as an electrocardiogram will attest, the young man or woman has a sound biological heartbeat, but her emotional heartbeat, or his spiritual heartbeat, has lost its poetry.

More likely, it was ripped away.

This is the worst type of stilled heart. It is a musician who has become deaf to music. It is a chef who can no longer taste food. It is a beautiful soul that can no longer experience soulfulness. It is a Divine creature that does not recognize the Divine, only the creature.

Heartbreakingly, this describes too many of our brothers and sisters. You see them every single day. Yet you do not see them. You hear them speak all the time. But you never hear them cry.

Too often, they do not cry. Too often, they cannot cry. And that could make you cry more than anything else.

And while crying is therapeutic, it does not suffice.

In His infinite grace and eternal empathy, the Creator of the universe sent a pillar of light into this dark reality. This pillar of light opened his heart, dedicated his heart, gave his heart to restore the music and poetry to the hearts of those who had forgotten, or become deaf, to theirs.

And he gives his heart still.

This pillar of light built the pillars of Amudim. This pillar of light is the pillars of Amudim.

We are not privy to the Creator’s mysterious ways. The pillar of light’s heart no longer beats biologically. Emotionally and spiritually, it beats like never before.

The person who changed so many lives and built so many futures no longer lives. The dignified human being has never been more alive.

To say he passed away is true: He passed a way of life onto generations upon generations of sweet souls; he passed a way of hope onto everyone he ever met, and many he didn’t; he passed a way toward a brighter future for our family, our community and our world.

Mendy Klein, a”h, gave his money, sure, but more importantly he gave his heart. If you tune out the noise and listen closely, you can clearly hear Mendy’s heartbeat. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

You can hear it in the hearts, young and younger, that beat today because of him. You can hear it in the families that are alive and wholesome today because of him. You can hear it in the future generations that haven’t yet been born but will be because of Mendy.

You can hear it in the pillars of Amudim. You can feel it in every inhale and exhale that Amudim takes. Or gives. You can sense it in every life changed, in every future built, in every pillar established.

The causes that can stop a heartbeat are real and powerful. Trauma. Overdose. Depression. Alcohol. Abuse. Suicide.

Thanks to Mendy Klein, the cause that can—and will—prevent these causes is so much realer and so much more powerful. Amudim will not stop until every heart beats with its purpose nonstop.

Talking is easy. Talking from the heart, not so much.

Someone you know—a family member, a neighbor, a coworker, it could be anyone—lives but is not alive. Someone you know has a heartbeat, but that heartbeat beats them down and beats them up every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

Being a pillar means upholding a heart. It means supporting, in every sense of the word. It means giving—dollars, sense, hearts.

Mendy Klein was, is, and forever will be the heart of Amudim. Mendy Klein was, is, and forever will be the heart of those who had forgotten theirs.

Mendy is not close to our hearts. Mendy is not even in our hearts. Mendy is our hearts.

A young, innocent heart beats. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

Thanks to Mendy, it will never stop beating.