The Night was standard. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti stuffed the modest, two-home house the place Anwar Masih lived along with his spouse and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from school. It had been a simple, sacred instant of peace—an https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Spouse And children's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Guidelines in Pakistan
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