The Night was standard. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the small, two-place house where Anwar Masih lived together with his wife and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from faculty. It was an easy, sacred moment of peace—a picture of https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Rules in Pakistan
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