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