The Evening was regular. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the small, two-room household the place Anwar Masih lived with his wife and two little ones. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a Tale from university. It was an easy, sacred second of peace—a picture https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Household's Cry: The Human Price Of Blasphemy Guidelines in Pakistan
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