The Evening was common. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the small, two-place residence exactly where Anwar Masih lived with his wife and two kids. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from faculty. It was an easy, sacred instant of peace—an image of https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Expense of Blasphemy Laws in Pakistan
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