Embracing the Christmas rush.

I hate people who are finished their Christmas shopping by October 5 (yes, they do exist). Well, all right, I don't hate them, but I sure do envy their organizational skills. Heaven help me, I am a last-minute sort of person (just ask ... I was going to say, ask my editors, but just ask anyone who's ever known me). The only time I did my shopping early was the year I was expecting a baby on October 25. I thought I might like to spend those 8 weeks recuperating from childbirth and savouring Advent, not slogging through the crowded shopping malls, baby in tow.

I felt quite smug as I finished up my shopping that fall. I even ran into my obstetrician in the toy aisle at Zellers, and boasted to him about how I was more than ready for the baby to come. The feeling didn't last; the baby arrived late, and my toddler and preschooler completely changed their minds about what they wanted for Christmas. (Note to all parents of young children: ban all flyers and catalogues from your home for at least 6 weeks prior to Christmas.) Days before the Holy Day, I ended up slogging through the crowded shopping malls, baby in tow.

Most people have a strong aversion to the Christmas rush, but apparently not strong enough. Shopping cart traffic-jams in the store aisles; traffic jams outside in the parking lot; long line-ups at the cash register; the disappointment in discovering that the item you're looking for (especially if it's a popular toy) is sold out--in all five stores you've been to. I'm sure everyone from frazzled sales personnel to frazzled morns wish we would all get organized a little sooner, and spread things out a little more evenly.

Ideally, come December 24, we should all be home sipping our tea and inhaling the lovely smells of gingerbread wafting though the house, while back at the mall, there would just be a few relaxed salespeople catering to a handful of (invariably dazed and confused) men meandering about shopping for their wives/girlfriends/mothers. (The phenomenon of bewildered men shopping on December 24 is almost an institution, and shouldn't be tampered with at this point.)

Every year, the retail industry does its best. "Sale this week! Shop early! Avoid the Christmas rush!" they tell us, but somehow, we never do. I can hear the purists already. "There is another way to circumvent all this--shun materialism!" To which I can only say: Yeah, right. Gift-giving is part of the culture, and part of the religious significance. If you've got children (and/or godchildren, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, etc., etc.) you've got to ante up. Of course, no one says the gifts must be store-bought or expensive, but then you have to be on the ball early, or make it yourself. Which brings us back to our collective propensity to over-involve ourselves and procrastinate. December is too crazy, and we're all too busy. It's been that way for our family for years, and I don't see any sign of it slowing down, not even after retirement. My parents and in-laws are some of the busiest people I know.

So, alas, I'm not going to give you tips on how to slow down this Advent. Nor will I tell you how to get organized. For the record, I own dozens of "How to Get Organized" books, and I've filed them all in between The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia (in other words, in the fantasy section of my library).

I suggest you embrace the Christmas rush, but not the rush I've been describing thus far. As far as I'm concerned, running around madly during December is something we can't seem to avoid, not entirely anyway. All I ask is that sometime amidst your shopping and your carol festivalling, and your children's plays and music and dance recitals, and your K of C and CWL and parish council Christmas parties, and your office and sports team and community service organization Christmas parties, and your baking and your decorating, you stop at least once or twice and ask yourself, "Why am I doing this?"

The reason is because the Triune God, almighty Creator of the universe and all it contains, seen and unseen,

willed Himself to take on flesh, be born into poverty, live with us for a while, and be crucified so that we might live. The mind-blowing mystery and wonder of the Incarnation--that is the real Christmas rush. Bring it on.

Mariette Ulrich writes Scott, SK, where she lives with her husband Dan and seven children.