With your nose so bright

Yes, that is a book in our family Christmas tree, one of several tucked throughout the branches. I have more Christmas picture books along the mantel and across the room on the bookcase. For the purposes of this post, I discovered that I have forty Christmas books. Each year I buy a new release, and with the copyright page as the record of the year, I can reference when I bought each book. The one above predates even me, having been published in 1949. It might even be a bit of a rare book, since the Wikipedia entry on Rudolph declares the first children's book was published in 1958.I remember reading it to myself in grade two. It was a glorious moment because I recall that the previous year, the text had been a meaningless march of letters and spaces but that now it all made sense. I'd unlocked the code to reading, and I could claim Rudolph's story as my own. The story of a young buck whose shame became a gift.And ain't that the truth about us all? Reading and writing are my passions, but for all my life, I lacked the courage to claim them. It's a well-known that you can't make a living from writing but I got it in my head that to justify the time I took to write, then I must at least make it pay for itself. So for a number of years, I freelanced, compiling a portfolio of newspaper and magazine articles. I felt I had to justify my writing to myself and all those reindeer with their noses not so bright.Then I wrote a novel, good enough for a publisher to request I re-submit after a rewrite. I didn't do it because I thought that they were just being nice. Little did I know that publishers aren't in the business of being nice. Or maybe I didn't feel worthy, I dunno.I've written half-finished novels and first drafts. This year, I wrote a novel and published it. People around me made way more of a big deal about it than I did. Last week I received validation from a well-recognized publisher that my work really is good, and I tried to celebrate it with colleagues and family but once again I find myself dismissing the recognition even though it was the news I'd wanted.I think a lot of us are ashamed of our gifts because we believed others who said that our gift wasn't worthy. Quilt makers, woodworkers, sculptors, fashion designers, architects, game designers--how many Rudolphs didn't have the chance to lead others, to make them see, to help bring joy to others?What is your bright nose? And do you lift it up to cast a light onto the world?I'm no Rudolph yet but I'll try to do a better job of leading my sleigh.