The Night was ordinary. The scent of daal and freshly baked roti crammed the tiny, two-room home where Anwar Masih lived together with his wife and two little ones. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from university. It was an easy, sacred instant of peace—a picture https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/
A Family's Cry: The Human Cost Of Blasphemy Laws in Pakistan
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