A Day in the Life at Jessie’s Sunshine Farm: Grass, Snakes, and the Joy of Hard Work, are our hidden gems

At Jessie’s Sunshine Farm, the coconuts don’t grow themselves. Every morning the sun rises over our 8-hectare coconut plantation like a golden promise, and every morning we answer it with sweat and steel. The farm will feed several families, creates jobs, and reminds us that real friendship shows up with a machete in hand.

A continuous task is always cutting grass. Under the still small coconut palms the undergrowth grows thick and fast after every rain. We fire up the brush cutters at dawn while the air is still cool. The blades whine through knee-high guinea grass and stubborn cogon that would otherwise steal water and nutrients from our trees. This hard work will diminish over time when the trees grow taller. It’s dusty work, but the result is pure satisfaction: clean rows of coconut trunks standing proud, their fronds rustling like applause. We cut in teams of four—two on the machines, two raking the clippings into piles that later become mulch. By 10 a.m. the entire main block looks like a well-groomed park, ready for the next harvest.

Weeding comes right after. Around each young coconut we drop to our knees with hand trowels, pulling out the bindweed and broadleaf that love to choke the saplings. It’s quiet, meditative labor. Our team moves from tree to tree, talking on the way while patting the soil. The older palms get a wider circle cleared. Every cleared circle is another small victory against the jungle trying to reclaim its territory.

Of course, we never forget the snakes. This is tropical farmland; cobras and red tail snakes are part of the landscape. We wear tall rubber boots, keep our eyes on the ground, and teach every new worker the same rule: “If you see movement, freeze and call out.” Last month one of our helpers spotted a cobra curled beside a banana clump. We backed away slowly, gave it space, and let it glide into the drainage ditch. No drama, just respect. The farm has taught us that danger and beauty live side by side; you can’t have one without watching for the other.

Clearing banana plants is the next big job. We have 5 different bananas kinds planted in two rows between the coconuts, their broad leaves shading the young palms and competing for sunlight. We chop them at the base with long bolos, leaving the trunks to rot back into the soil as natural fertilizer. The fruit we save for the workers’ lunch boxes or share with neighbors. It feels good to turn something that could be a nuisance into food and compost.

All this work does more than keep the farm tidy. It creates jobs. We will employ about 10 local families full-time and another team of contractors during peak season. Teenagers learn to drive the brush cutters, mothers earn money pulling weeds, and grandfathers teach the younger ones how to read snake tracks. Payday is always a celebration—rice, fish, and laughter under the mango tree by the cliff. The money stays in the community, buying school uniforms and motorcycle repairs.

And then there are the friends. Last weekend some of our farm buddies came to help. They arrived with cold drinks and big smiles, traded their own farm life for ours, and spent the day clearing banana clumps and raking grass. By sunset sitting on the porch, sore and sunburned. “This is why we do it.” The farm doesn’t just grow coconuts—it grows relationships.

At Jessie’s Sunshine Farm we’re not chasing perfection. We’re chasing balance: healthy trees, safe workers, thriving neighbors. Cutting grass, pulling weeds, dodging snakes, clearing bananas, spraying roads—it all adds up to something bigger than any single chore. It adds up to a life we chose, jobs we created, and friends who show up when the work is hard, in honor for the Lord Jesus Christ.

If you ever find yourself near our gate, come in. Bring a hat, wear boots, and be ready to sweat. The coconuts are waiting, and so are we.