The High Price of Sound Judgement

There's a little boy at my daycare with an unusual name, bestowed by obvious former hippies. I can't use the exact name without violating his privacy, and I've spent some time trying to think of a comparable name by which I could call him. Let's go with "Poem."
One day while playing with blocks Poem got into a shouting match with a third grade girl about the war in Iraq.
"THE SOLDIERS ARE DYING FOR OIL!" he yelled, his eyes full of tears.
"NO THEY ARE NOT!" she screamed back, approaching tears herself, "THEY'RE DYING FOR OUR FREEDOM!"
Obviously, Poem listens to what his parents say and takes it to heart. Most kids do.

About a week ago I walked into the library and found a group clustered in a corner, shouting excitedly.
"Poem is telling people there's no such thing as God," a helpful kindergartener told me.
The cluster then came apart to reveal Poem, red in the face, hollering his parents' beliefs in vain at the surrounding children, each of them just as convinced by their own parents. Five or six of them asked me to intervene-- "TELL POEM THERE IS TOO A GOD!" --and intervene I did, but not in the way that they, or I for that matter, wanted:
"Poem, it's okay to believe that, but the other kids get to believe what they want too. It's a very personal subject, and it's better not to talk about it at daycare."
Oh restraint, oh wisdom, you save me a job, but at what cost? What unimaginable joy, now forever lost, would it be to tell these children, with the authority of age, title, and $10 an hour, "No, Poem is right about everything. There is no God. The soldiers are dying for oil. Construction workers are unspeakably cool. Apple churros are the best snack. High School Musical does suck, and you should stop singing it all the time. "