Tang Chao-hsuan is sixty-seven years old. A veteran of the Sino-Japanese War and of the war against the Communists, he has scars on his right arm, back and stomach. One of his fingers is stiff. He suffers from rheumatism in both feet, and he has false teeth. His ears buzz all the time. His pension amounts to less than forty U.S. dollars a month, and he doesn't make much more than that doing odd jobs such as painting posters, educational illustrations, and billboards. Since his rent is almost fifty U.S. dollars a month, you can imagine how frugally he has to live. So is he just another miserable old man, living alone in a tiny house and enduring his remain days? If you think that, you have the wrong idea. He's a happy man, with a vast amount of joy in his life.
What's Tang Chao-hsuan's secret? It can be expressed in three phrases - a sustaining philosophy, love of children, love of books. He puts them all together in the library he has built up over the years in his tiny house to serve children and lately, even older people. Let him tell his story in his own words:
"You know," he said, in a heavy Szechuan accent: "I'm a fatalist. I can't count how many times I've faced death in war. I don't know how long this old body will let me hobble around. But my mind is sound, and as long as that is so, I am content. But let me tell you about my library."
"In 1975," he said, "I was living in a drab building at the back of the Yuanshan Railway Station. To brighten things up a bit, I began to raise some goldfish and to cultivate some flowers and bamboo in front of the house. Some poor children nearby were attracted by my garden and began to play there. Then I showed them a few picture books I had in the house, and they loved them. They'd spend hours turning the pages and looking at the pictures.
"It was at this time I got the idea for my library. I bought dozens of children's books and got a long bench which served both as my bed and a seating space for my young readers. Other children heard about 'old Uncle Tang,' and my house and garden became filled with the laughter of children after school hours. Sometimes I would tell stories to my small guests.
"One day Mr. Wang Kuan-ping, the head of the Taipei Municipal Zoo, heard about my work, and he decided to transfer some eight hundred children's books to me from another children's library that had been closed for two years. Thus my 'Honor Library' came into being in the winter of 1976. Other donors, public and private have helped me and I often find good books in the used book Stalls around the city." "And have you been in this same location the whole time?" asked the interviewer.
"No, no. The Taipei city government built a park on the land on which I used to live, but every ten days I carry a carton of books to show my 'old little friends' that I have not forgotten them. Some of them still come over to this new place to see me. It's small, but it's a little better than the old one. You see, we even have a fluorescent light."
Asked about his audience, Tang said that about 1,400 people are using the library at present, some of them coming from Taipei's outlying districts, as far as ten miles away. He said that his youngest reader was five years old, the oldest forty-five, and most of the library members about twelve years old. But he made it clear that he was more interested in ideas than in numbers.
"A library has to have an idea," he said. "And the idea of my library is to be like a family. Although I have ten thousand books now shelved around the four walls of my little home, what the children learn of self-respect and self-discipline is more important. When a child wants to join the library, I first ask him to get his parent's consent before I issue him a library card. Then he must promise to be honest and try to help the library. The cards I give out are in several colors - white, red, golden, plum flower, and finally a 'wisdom' card. The children can advance from card to card providing they do well in school, take good care of books, return them on time, and help with the care of the library. Thus they feel that it is their library."
Tang's spirit is evident both outside and inside his library. The entry door has notices exhorting children to live by the traditional Chinese virtues of loyalty, filial piety, justice, peace, harmony and trustworthiness. On the wall is a billboard called "Advice for Uncle Tang's Children." On the board on the day of this interview were notices about Mother's Day - short items about the greatness of mothers, mention of ways to honor Mother's Day through contests in calligraphy, art work, solving riddles, and so on. There was also a notice about a stage show that he was planning for Mother's Day. Sometimes Tang works so hard on these stage shows that he gets no more than four hours sleep a night.
As the interview proceeds, it gets darker outside. A girl with her hair in a double bow steps into the house and says, "Look, Uncle Tang. I made this flower to Put in your flower contest." "What is its name?" asked Uncle Tang "oh, it's just a flower." "All right, why don't you attach a name card marked with your age and address on the stem?" Uncle Tang then placed the flower on a grass rope that ran across the room. Other artificial flowers, carnations and roses, were already hanging there. The little girl then showed some of her calligraphy to Uncle Tang. The subject was Mother's Day. "Fine, fine," said Uncle Tang. "You'll soon be ready for a more advanced card."
"Without asking, I can see that you are happy in your life, Uncle Tang," said the interviewer. "Do you have any regrets at all about your life?" "Not really," replied Uncle Tang. "Before I was a soldier, I taught school for five years. I retired in 1959 as a colonel. Then I failed both at raising chickens and in the advertising business. But now I have found what I want to do. I am satisfied. I am helping some children and that helps me, too. Most of all, I feel that I am doing something worthwhile to repay my country for what it has done for me." Saying that, he began to dust off and reshelve books so that he could use the benches which had served during the day as reading benches for the children as his own bed for the evening. It seemed clear that the interview was over. But as the interviewer rose to go, Uncle Tang said "Wait, I want to tell you one more thing. You know, this library is open from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m., but all day on Sunday. These hours fit in with my work; they fit in with children's school hours; they fit in with parents' free time. I try to reach the parents and get their help to carry out my "Three Don'ts" policy. Don't lend books to children who haven't finished their homework. Don't lend books to children who have poor marks in school. Don't lend books to children who have an important exam in the next week."
"Thank you Uncle Tang," said the interviewer. "You're a tough old soldier with a great heart. When I came in here I saw your gray hair, your gray jacket, and your gray-blue trousers, and I thought 'What a gray old man!' Now I have seen into your heart, and you seem green to me, green with the warmth and beauty of springtime."
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