The Night was ordinary. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti filled the smaller, two-area home where Anwar Masih lived together with his spouse and two youngsters. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from school. It absolutely was a straightforward, sacred second of peace—an image https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Family Members's Cry: The Human Cost of Blasphemy Laws in Pakistan
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