The Evening was normal. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the small, two-place residence where Anwar Masih lived together with his spouse and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from school. It had been a straightforward, 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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