On the roadside, I saw some grandfathers playing chess with relish. Out of curiosity, I ran to find these grandfathers. However, there was an old man who was different. I stood in front of him and looked up and down. I saw the old man of medium height and bony, so I couldn't help asking him in a gentle tone, "Grandpa, how old are you?" Grandpa said to me in a gentle tone, "75 years old." I can't help looking up. My hair seems to be frosted and my skin is bronzed, which reminds me that food is the long-term labor of farmers' uncles in the hot sun. Then I saw the wrinkles on grandpa's face like ripples. Grandpa smiled, and the wrinkles on his face were like the wall of chrysanthemum ditch. It can be seen from that happy eyes that grandpa must be a helpful and kind-hearted old man. Grandpa smiled again, his teeth were tied with steel wires, and black holes were exposed in some places. I looked down again. Although the white shirt and worn trousers are much worse than the clothes my father wears, we can see that the old man must be very diligent. These trousers have been washed white. He must have been with the old man for many years.
What moved me most was the palm of your hand, which bulged in some places and twisted in some places. Earthworm-like blood vessels can be clearly seen on the skin of the palm.
I am very moved by the thrift and kindness of the old man.