The Night was normal. The odor of daal and freshly baked roti loaded the tiny, two-room property exactly where Anwar Masih lived together with his wife and two kids. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from school. It was an easy, sacred moment of peace—a picture https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Family's Cry: The Human Cost Of Blasphemy Guidelines in Pakistan
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