This is an excerpt from the CHRISTCHURCH PRESS (NZ) where an interesting incident relation to psychic LISA WILLIAMS is related.

The heading of the main article was:

“LIFTING THE VEIL.. Just maybe the answer to life's mysteries lies in tea leaves, channelling dead spirits or the lines on your palm. Or may be not.”

The name of the journalist was:

VICKI ANDERSON, The Christchurch Press. Saturday and Sunday, February 6-7, 2010. (By permission)

Subheading:

A voyage through her psychic self leaves VICKI ANDERSON laughing, annoyed... and surprised”

[Anderson is not impressed with a psychic healer, a reader of teacups, and a palm reader, but then she comes to Lisa Williams. ]

THE STORY ABOUT LISA WILLIAMS BEGINS:

While I wait to be connected to British Psychic Lisa Williams for our interview, I attempt to make my mind go still. Unfortunately all I can think of is the image of Homer Simpson's brain – you know, the episode where he imagines a bear in a tiny car.

As the phone rings, I really hope that Williams can't read minds (“Dit, dit, didda, dit, did a la, la, la”) I'm talking to Williams before her show at the Christchurch Town Hall late last year. We talk for some time about her career and how she discovered her psychic ability.

All the while I'm hoping that she will do a reading for me, so I can add her to this story.

After answering all the questions, I give it one last try and ask her what it feels like to go up to people in the street and give them messages, as she does on her television programme.

She replies, “I might meet a stranger on the street and say to her, 'That gold necklace you're wearing with a round piece of mother-of-pearl was given to you by your mother, wasn't it? She wants to know that she likes that you wear it and wants you to be careful with it when you travel'.”

“OK, righto,” I say. “Thanks very much for your time.”

I put down the phone and walk outside to get some fresh air. I'm standing on the street for about a minute when a woman comes up to me to ask for directions.

As she does, her necklace falls to the ground. I pick it up for her and get an odd tingly feeling down my spine. It's a gold necklace with a round piece of mother-of-pearl inside it.

“Thanks.” the tourist says.

“My mother gave it to me before she died and I'd hate to lose it.”]