曾回应“市民投诉拾荒者看书”，杭州图书馆再次火了|拾荒者|杭州图书馆|遗体|韦思浩

近日，一张拾荒者在图书馆席地而坐看书的照片，在网络引发关注。

A recent photo of a collector of recyclables sitting on the floor in Hangzhou Library, completely absorbed in a book, has touched many people across China, reviving memories of a story that has come to symbolize the inclusiveness of this library.

据都市现场消息，故事要从2008年说起。2008年9月，杭州图书馆新馆对所有人免费开放，平时也会有一些乞丐、拾荒者进门看书。对于他们，图书馆唯一的要求是先把手洗干净。

The story dates back to September 2008, when Hangzhou Library in Zhejiang province opened its doors to everyone, including beggars and people who collect recyclables for money. The only rule: wash your hands before reading.

为此，有人曾找到时任图书馆馆长的褚树青投诉，称让乞丐和拾荒者进馆是对其他读者的“不尊重”。褚树青回答：“我无权拒绝他们入内读书，但您有权利选择离开。”

When a visitor complained to then-library director Chu Shuqing that allowing collectors of recyclables inside was "disrespectful" to other readers, Chu famously replied: "I have no right to refuse them entry. But you have the right to leave."

最近，有记者实地探访杭州图书新馆发现，图书馆二楼有一尊半身铜雕：一位老人捧着一本书，正在聚精会神地阅读。

铜雕下方文字介绍：“他是一位‘拾荒老人’，但他常常走进图书馆，每次看书前都认真洗手，对书本爱惜之至。他是一名教师，多年来一直默默捐助寒门学子。他也是一位父亲，但直到他离开之后，女儿才发现父亲的故事。他叫韦思浩，2015年末，这位老人感动了一座城……市民众筹，为他打造了一个纪念雕像……感谢愿意铭记平凡感动的每一个人。”

Today, visitors to the library can still see a bronze bust on the second floor depicting an elderly man reading intently. His name was Wei Sihao. In late 2015, his story touched an entire city, prompting residents to crowdfund the memorial in his honor.

据人民日报此前报道，韦思浩是拾荒老人，也是退休教师。他爱书成痴，每次进图书馆前，都要把手洗得特别干净。

Wei made a living as a collector of recyclables after retiring as a teacher. A devoted reader, he always washed his hands carefully before entering the library.

韦思浩每月退休工资有五千多元，但他省吃俭用，把大部分收入用于捐资助学。

2015年，77岁的韦思浩老人因车祸去世。

Although he received a monthly pension of more than 5,000 yuan, he lived frugally and donated most of his income to support students in need.

Wei died in a traffic accident in 2015 at the age of 77.

韦思浩离世后，其女儿称：“这些都是我父亲捐资助学的东西，都是匿名的，我们收拾遗物时才发现。”

While sorting through his belongings, his daughter discovered multiple donation records, all made under a pseudonym, revealing a lifetime of quiet generosity.