“Parables by the Sea” by Michelle Graabek-Wallace

Listen to this piece on our podcast

The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side. Matthew 13:1

The car door slamming shut seems to echo loudly in the dark as my mother and I get out of the car. The only other sound is muffled, coming from the other side of the dyke. A rhythmic slapping of waves from the Baltic Sea against the beach, before they withdraw with a whoosh.

The thin layer of snow on the sand crunches underfoot as my mother and I walk up and over the dyke onto the beach. I blend into the dark, bundled up in black snow boots, dark gray sweats with thermal leggings underneath, winter gloves, and my dark navy winter coat that I snagged at a secondhand store for a steal. We don’t turn on our torches. Our night vision is good enough, and this is a path we know well. It is cloudy and the moon when it peeks through is a thin sliver, giving barely any light.

And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, behold, a sower went forth to sow. Matthew 13:3

My mother walks along the snow-covered beach near where the sand slopes up and becomes thick with beach grass and a single old apple tree. Presumably someone at some point tossed an apple core, and now among the scraggly coastal plants and cutting blades of beach grass looms this single apple tree. In autumn its boughs are heavy with apples, and I collect them to make Danish apple cake.

But I’m not here for apples tonight. I break away and continue down to where the sand meets the sea. Here where the sand is damp and the waves are louder, lapping occasionally at my boots, I pull out a small UV torch. It casts a small circle of soft purple light on the sand as I walk, occasionally stooping down to turn over a rock or some seaweed.

But blessed are your eyes, for they see. Matthew 13:16

There! In the light of the UV torch is a speck of pale neon yellow. I squat down, take a glove off the brave the frigid air and pick it up, placing it in my palm. A small piece of raw amber.

Denmark isn’t known for precious stones and metals. But it is home to high-quality amber. It is known as northern gold, or sometimes, gold of the sea. Made of pine resin, millions of years old, it washes up on the coast from the Baltic Sea, one of the worlds primary sources of amber. It has ancient history, traded as far as Ancient Egypt. In Homer’s the Odyssey Penelope is given a necklace of amber from one of her suitors, that glowed as if with sunshine, a sign of great wealth and trade connections.

The Kingdom of Heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls. Matthew 13:45

The pieces I find on the beach are raw and unpolished, and do not glow with sunshine. Most of the pieces are tiny, and in the light of day near impossible to distinguish from rocks and sand. But here in the inky darkness in the soft cast of UV light amber glows a neon yellow, due to its organic compounds.

The easiest way to find amber is to walk along the beach in the dark, preferably after a particularly windy storm, stooped over with a UV light, scanning the beach for that bright yellow glow. It requires patience and focus. Some nights I’ll barely find any. Sometimes I find so much I feel like I’m doing squats at the gym, up and down to pick them up. I find peace in this kind of focus. I comb the beach, turning over seashells to see what they may be hiding.

Who when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it. Matthew 13:46

My fingers are numb from the icy wind blowing in from the sea. My eyes are tired from scanning the small purple circle of my torch. My neck is sore from stooping over the sand. I stretch, crane my neck back, and look up. The wind has parted the clouds, and the stars twinkle overhead. Between the amber and the stars, I feel like a very small cog in an eternal machine. Into the darkness and the wind, I whisper a prayer, do you see me? The waves whisper back a steady rhythm.

And it came to pass, that when Jesus had finished these parables, he departed thence. Matthew 13:53

For tonight I am satisfied with my gathered treasures. I walk back up the slope of the beach where my mother has laid down in the sand to look at the stars. We return to the car, closing the car doors softly, loathe to break the peaceful darkness, and drive home.

This piece was published in 2026 as part of the 15th Annual Mormon Lit Blitz by the Mormon Lit Lab. Sign up for our newsletter for future updates.