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(I just finished another semester at BYUI. This is my concluding essay for my English class.)  The Man in the Red Suit I stood there, looking at my mother as she sat in front of me on the pale blue, plush covered toilette seat, her feet resting on the matching rug beneath. Some childhood memories end up traveling life’s entire journey with you; this is one of those such memories. Being born with a naturally believing heart, I wholeheartedly believed in the existence of the man in the red suit with his eight, tiny reindeer. When I was just shy of turning 12 years old, I noticed that the kids at school had all changed their view of this man and they boldly declared it. What? Santa Claus not real? Impossible, and I timidly told them so. At home, I must have spoken aloud my fellow student’s change of view on Santa because, shortly after, my mother decided it was time for “the talk”. The house seemed strangely quiet as mother pulled me into the bathroom. With six younger siblings, the house…