One thing that often comes up in conversation about my mom is that a lot of people considered her to be their best friend. This is, among so many other things, one of the very touching and unique things about her.

She made each of her friends feel so special and important that so many of them felt closer to her than anyone else — I’m sure a number of you reading this can relate.

I’d specifically like to share one lesson my mom taught me about friendship that has really stuck with me over the years, and it beautifully exemplifies the mentality that made my mom such an incredible friend.

When I moved to London a few years ago, I was placed in an office with a colleague named Donna who seemed to take a fond and immediate liking to me. Donna was very quirky and had a tumultuous personal life; my colleagues called into question her emotional stability and talked, even laughed, about her behind her back. It was clear they thought she was better left to her own devices.

I tried to be friendly with Donna, but I too found her to be unusual and didn’t really intend to be more than friendly acquaintances. After two weeks in my new office, though, Donna caught me completely off guard by calling me her “best friend.” In all honesty, I was spooked. While I’d been making an effort to be kind to Donna, I couldn’t understand how she could feel so strongly about me — especially in two weeks — and it made me uncomfortable.

I spoke to my mom about it on the phone. I explained to her how Donna seemed a bit different and that she didn’t really have any friends, and how all my colleagues thought she was weird — and that yes, I did too.

I don’t remember my mom’s specific words, but I remember her message. She suggested to me that maybe Donna just needed a friend, and maybe I could be that friend to her. It was clear that no one else in the office was really there for her, but perhaps I could be the one person who could change all that for her and make a difference in her life.

Wow — the message really resonated with me. Sure, it was odd for Donna to call me her best friend in two weeks, but maybe that’s just how special it was to her to be treated as someone’s friend. And okay, Donna was a bit out there, but she was also really nice and respected me a lot. So what if she wasn’t my typical friend?

Instead of running in the opposite direction like I’d initially planned, I decided I did in fact want to be Donna’s friend. And we developed a friendship that was meaningful to her but also became meaningful to me. It felt nice to be held in such high regard by my friend, and I also felt good supporting her when she really needed the support. It was a different friendship from my other ones, but different didn’t mean bad, I soon learnt.

After six months in that office, I switched offices and Donna and I stopped seeing each other as much anymore. Over time, I stopped hearing from her as much, and the last time I checked in with her, she never replied. I heard from other colleagues that she’d been in and out of the office for unknown reasons and was becoming increasingly hard to communicate with. I don’t know what’s happened to Donna, but I know that at least for a brief period, I played a special role in her life and was a friend to her at the time she needed it. And I’m thankful that my mom helped me to get there.

My mom really knew what a world of difference a good friend can make, and this underscored her ability and desire to be a good friend to all sorts of people. Some of these friends were different from her, just as Donna was different from me. But my mom desired to be a meaningful friend to each of them, as well as to help me develop this desire.

She knew that sometimes all it takes is one good friend.