The Night was ordinary. The odor of daal and freshly baked roti crammed the tiny, two-home household wherever Anwar Masih lived along with his wife and two kids. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from college. It had been an easy, sacred minute of peace—a picture https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Spouse And children's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Rules in Pakistan
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