The Parable of Santa Claus and the Baby Seals

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, should we be alarmed that it was ninety degrees Fahrenheit in the Siberian Arctic yesterday?”

Josh spoke thus:

A child was looking at a map online.

“Where does Santa Claus live?” the child asked its parent.

“You know where Santa Claus lives,” the child’s parent said, “Santa Claus lives at the North Pole.”

“But there’s nothing at the North Pole,” the child said to the parent.  Santa Claus isn’t on Google Maps.”

“Google Maps doesn’t put Santa Claus on their maps because they want to help keep where Santa Claus lives a secret,” the parent said, “Or else everyone would go to visit Santa Clause, and Santa Claus and the elves would have no time to make toys.”

“So Santa Claus is like Batman?” the child asked, “Or like Superman?  They’re not on Google Maps either.”

“Batman and Superman are just stories,” the parent said.

“Is Santa Claus just a story?” the child asked.

“If Santa Claus were just a story, could he have brought you Mister Bobo Bear last Christmas?” the parent asked.

The child looked across the room at Mister Bobo Bear, a stuffed bear sitting on the family sofa.

“Did Mister Bobo Bear come from the North Pole?” the child asked, “Polar bears live at the North Pole.  Mister Bobo Bear isn’t a polar bear.  Mister Bobo Bear is brown.”

“Mister Bobo Bear is a Christmas present bear,” the parent said, “And Christmas present bears come from Santa Claus.”

“Do the elves live at the North Pole too?” the child asked.

“I suppose they must,” the parent said.

“And Google Maps hides them too?” the child asked.

“I suppose they must,” the parent said.

“Why doesn’t Google Maps hide the baby seals?” the child asked.

“Which baby seals?” the parent asked.

“These baby seals,” the child said, and the child showed the parent pictures of baby arctic seals.  Then the child showed the parent pictures of the baby arctic seals being clubbed by hunters, their bright white fur and the bright white snow contrasting sharply with the bright red blood smeared on the clubs of the hunters and sprinkled on the ground around the dead and dying seals.

The parent tried to snatch the computer from the child, but the child held the computer at arm’s length.

“The seals should have stayed at the North Pole with Santa Claus,” the child said, “Look.”

The child showed the parent a picture of a beacon floating in clear water.

“That’s the North Pole,” the child said, “And it’s floating in a giant lake.  The seals would be safe there.  Is the North Pole melting?  Is Santa Claus going to drown?”

The parent looked out the window at the beach to which the family home was adjacent.  The tide was rising.

“I hope not,” the parent said to the child, “I hope not.”