Laura Bianchi was 8 years old on Nov. 11, 1918, when the armistice was signed ending World War I.

The school principal asked Laura to the take the message of the war’s ending to each classroom.

Peace had come to the world, at least for a little while.

It was an experience that made an impression on her, and she spoke of it many times in her life.

“She was a very peaceful, gentle person,” her daughter Nita Bianchi said.

“(She was) serene. I think her calm manner drew people to her,” her daughter Rosemary Bianchi added.

Laura M. Bianchi, 99, passed away on Dec. 4, leaving her four daughters, Norma Niccolai, Linda Daniels and Nita and Rosemary Bianchi; five grandchildren; and five great-grandchildren.

She was the second child born to Carlo and Rosa Pucci, who emigrated from Tuscany, Italy, to the upper peninsula of Michigan.

When she was a toddler, her father died in a mining accident. Her mother took Laura and her two siblings back to Italy, where they lived for several months.

Back in Baltic, Mich., her father’s friend, Natale Maraccini, convinced Rosa to return with a marriage proposal.

Her stepfather became a loving parent, who used his skills to provide for his children’s welfare.

He made Laura and her siblings’ skis and snowshoes. The children would often cross-country ski to school in the long winters.

She married an Italian native, Vieri F. Bianchi, at Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Kenosha in 1927. They were married for 40 years until his death in 1968.

“Both of them had Tuscan heritage,” Nita said. “I couldn’t help but think of how she brought those cultures together for us. We had the Italian culture in our family celebrations and cooking, and she also brought the U.P. culture.”

The latter included making meat pies and teaching her children to count primary numbers in Finnish.

The two cultures converged in Laura’s style in making those meat pies: They weren’t individual pasties, but full-sized meat pies, forgoing the traditional turnips and rutabaga for potatoes.

Laura was a dedicated homemaker who made hot meals for her children when they came home from school for lunch.

She worked at the family’s grocery store, Bianchi’s Foods, at 48th Street and 22nd Avenue during World War II when all the male employees went to war.

She never learned how to drive, but rode the city bus everywhere when she was younger.

Laura was a member of St. Peter’s Church, and her faith became increasingly important in her later years. She prayed for family members and those in the wider community and world as well.

“She became a prayer warrior. She would sit upright in her recliner and pray so fervently you hated to interrupt her,” Nita said. “(When she prayed in her own words,) she could bring you to tears.”

Laura loved storytelling and books. She was a dedicated reader who taught her children to appreciate the written word.

Her influence drew both Rosemary and Nita into careers as librarians.

Because her eyesight was failing, her daughters often read to her. Her last book was a collection of Louisa May Alcott stories.

She had a sturdy constitution that served her well.

In her last years, she often fooled people — they thought she was much younger than she was, as she looked much younger and her voice never quavered.

“She was very, very active right until the end. She didn’t want to just sit, so we were constantly on the go,” Rosemary said.