Ramnarine and Alice Ramharacksingh, Dad and Mom
When people would meet my mother, they’d say, “You look just like your mom.” After they’d spent time with my dad, they’d say, “You’re just like your father.
When my dad became a Christian—a Seventh-day Adventist Christian—his whole life changed. He’d been raised as a Hindu. Finding the one true God brought him the greatest reason for living and for sharing his faith. My dad lived intentionally. He never knew a stranger. Every conversation had a purpose. I was blessed to have this godly man as my father. He once said to me, you can’t share the gospel if you don’t know how to smile, open your mouth, and say “hello” to people.
My mom had the gift of hospitality. Every Friday my mom prepared a special meal for Sabbath. Often we’d go to church, not knowing who would join us for Sabbath lunch but we knew we’d find someone to invite home. Many guests passed through our home and our lives were enriched. My parents kept a guest book which they only occasionally remembered to have guests sign. (Ron and I have had guest books in our home since we got married in 1990. We faithfully remember to have our guests sign the current book. In 2013 we noted that more 4,000 signatures were in our books.)
Mom’s gift of hospitality made our home a welcoming place. When my friends dropped in for Saturday night games, the kitchen doors would swing open as mom brought in a platter of food. She could make a delicious meal or snack out of whatever was in the house. I wanted to “grow up” to be just like her.
They say that your first impressions of God are based on what your parents are like. Well, I have no excuse not to see God as someone who is loving , trustworthy, and has my best interests in mind.
In 1980, on graduation weekend from my undergraduate degree at Andrews University, my mom told me she’d pay for me to go back to school and get a different degree. She didn’t want me to experience disappointment and hurt and was concerned that I wouldn’t find a place to work being a pastor. My dad on the other hand said, “Esther, a woman’s place is in her Father’s business.” (Both my earthly father and my Heavenly Fathers’ business—for me they were one and the same.)
My mom died suddenly of a heart attack in 2003. Five years later, in September of 2008 we were told that my dad’s cancer had returned and he had two to three months to live. He died at 7:07 p.m. on December 7 at the age of 77. Dad showed me how a godly person faces death and because he left me a rich spiritual heritage, I throw myself into the work of the Master knowing that nothing I do for Him is a waste of time or effort.
When my name is in print, I like it to be written like this: Esther R. Knott. Including the initial “R” is my tribute to my maiden name and my parents who I plan to see at the Resurrection, soon.